


The Curse of Forgotten Hollow

by nushnushganay



Category: TheSims4 - Fandom
Genre: Assault, Drama & Romance, Drug Abuse, Drugs, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Miscarriage, Multi, Suicide Attempt, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-02-19 02:33:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 39
Words: 32,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22003834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nushnushganay/pseuds/nushnushganay
Summary: Relationship woes and life's tragedies change the lives of Caleb Vatore, Morgan Fyres, and Gaston Beaulieu as they struggle with love and desire, jealousy, and a special problem with Morgan, that reveals something odd about the history of Forgotten Hollow, Vlad, and magic.
Relationships: Caleb Vatore/Original Male Character(s), Lilith Vatore/Original Male Character, Morgan Fyres/Original Male Character
Kudos: 39





	1. Green-Eyed Monster

**Author's Note:**

> This started out harmlessly enough as sharing what happened in my modded game, but then started becoming a story, at which point I had to decide whether to let the game lead (in which case no coherent storyline was possible) or try to continue it as a story, meaning I had to stop playing and start planning.

Gaston had one too many at the club's bar, and drunk-called Caleb.

With an inner eye-roll he was glad Gaston couldn't see, Caleb hurried there, to save Gaston from embarrassing himself.

Gaston was perplexing, yet alluring. He was young, with the impulsivity of youth and machismo, that made him all the more attractive. Yet in need of rescuing. An irresistible combination.

After a most enthusiastic greeting, Gaston bought him a drink stronger than he was accustomed to, and half-led, half-stumbled them to the dancefloor.

Caleb was having a good time, and lost himself to the music and the pulsing swirl of bodies, hard and soft, all around him...his shyness and reserve slipped off as he melted into the crisscrossing waves of flirtation and response...

Gaston was suddenly all seriousness when he saw Caleb in another's embrace. 

He was at Caleb's side in a moment, taking him by the arm to a private room. 

Words were had. Didn't Caleb get it?! What was he playing at?!

Caleb shot back that nothing serious had happened, that Gaston was overreacting. Gaston spluttered, words failing. He found himself grabbing Caleb roughly, trying to MAKE him understand. Then felt Caleb go a little limp, and followed with a frenzied kiss.

Caleb was not expecting that. Gaston was rough, demanding. Absurd as it was to feel threatened by a mere fledgling vampire, He broke away.

"That felt violating!"

Stung, Gaston recoiled and was fixed by Caleb's piercing gaze.

"Is this who you really are, Gaston? Do I even know you?"

Shame ignited the volatile blend of wounded pride and alcohol. Gaston's drink seemed to throw itself.

Caleb hissed between his teeth. He brushed at his soiled garments, shock giving way to the fury of grave insult.

He would teach that arrogant fledgling a lesson!

In the main arena of the club. Where there was room, and witnesses.

Gaston bared fangs. If Caleb wanted blood, he was going to get it!

Their midair collision in a cloud of black smoke, became the focus of everyone below.

Gaston grabbed Caleb in mid-flight and dragged him rudely to the floor, turning to his advantage in ground fighting.

But it wasn't enough to overcome the vastly superior powers of a higher-ranking vampire...

Caleb flew up to hold him dangling, before dropping him to the floor in an ignominious heap.

Then helped him up. The point had been made.

"Go home, Gaston. You're drunk!"


	2. Butt-hurt and broken up?

Gaston left the club in a morass of humiliation, still fuming.

He found himself eventually at Caleb's door, but Caleb was still out. Gaston's infant daughter Rose was there, and he was trying to be a father, even though he'd had no choice in becoming either that, or a vampire, and would have to see Caleb's sister Lilith in the process.

The worst of it was, as his maker, Lilith held power over him. Even, he supposed, in matters of intimacy, though she had chosen seduction rather than force, that fateful night he was passed out after a party at his friend Morgan's place. Lilith had apparently wanted a baby, and chose him for stud duty. Then, for whatever reason, she had turned him into a vampire too, though he didn't realize it at the time.

But he wasn't going to let that come between him and his daughter. He cuddled her, feeding her with a bottle of breastmilk Lilith had provided. He hadn't asked to have his life changed forever, but once she was in the world, this tiny person held power over him far stronger than Lilith's. He inhaled her silky head, trying to memorize her again because it seemed she changed each time he saw her. She was asleep. He laid her gently in her bassinet, handing Lilith the empty bottle. Time to go.

He froze for a moment on the stairs, seeing Caleb enter. For an instant, Gaston felt the desire to sweep him into an embrace. Then the image of Caleb smiling in the arms of another blazed up, hot and fresh.

"How can we _be_ together if you want to be with someone else? Am I not _enough_ for you?!" 

Caleb was taken aback. Why did Gaston have to crucify him for one little flirt on the dancefloor? If Caleb could forgive how Gaston had behaved that day, for the sake of their relationship, why couldn't Gaston also forgive? And hadn't they already been through this? He could only say he hadn't meant to hurt Gaston, that it hadn't meant anything.

That made it worse! "You get that close and personal, then say it didn't _mean_ anything?! Only liars and whores do that!" Gaston was yelling and didn't care.

He shouldered past Caleb, who was breaking down. "So which one are YOU?" he added, slamming the door.

Caleb could only watch him leave him while his heart broke into little pieces.


	3. Humble pie, and a Hot Dish

After storming out the door, Gaston kicked over the trashcan, punched the snowpal, and headed for...wherever. A long walk to cool his head off. His phone went off; it was his neighbor Raj, inviting Gaston out for Guys' Night at the 8 Bells in Strangerville.

He felt in need of a few stiff ones, so was glad to accept.

Instead of calming him, the drink just amplified his anger and made him reckless. He knew he had had too much, but he wasn't in a mood to care.

To be honest, he was pissing for a fight. So far, no one would take him up on it... Raj left in disgust.

When an officer ordered at the bar, Gaston did his best to bait him, and got brushed off like a bug.

Stupidity growing with ire and drunkenness, he followed him outside and tried harder.

Possessed of the self-control under duress that defines real leadership, the officer refused to play the game.

"I'm not going to soil my uniform by teaching you a lesson, young turd, and you can thank me later, when you've sobered up. Until then I advise you to reflect on your sorry state and do something about it, rather than making it everyone else's problem."

He turned smartly on his heel, leaving Gaston weaving on his feet, now acutely aware of how pathetic he was. Broken pride was more effective a teacher, than a broken nose. The officer was right.

He somehow made it home and slept it off, hiding from everyone.

* * *

The next day, he realized he was low on cash after paying the rent, and out of plasma packs. The thirst was getting so intense, he might just do something wicked, so he called in a favor from a friend. Morgan and he were solid. She agreed to come by, and offered her wrist.

She was one of those people whose blood was exquisite to the taste, and just smelling her close up was temptation. But she had made it clear from the beginning that they were friends, full stop. Being willing to let him 'take one off the wrist' occasionally, was for her, an act of loyalty that required Best Friend status, to invoke.

But oh, the secret heaven of tasting her! He could never tell her. He had even wondered if Caleb had ever been tempted by her, since he introduced them. But it wouldn't do to ask. Either of them. In case.

When she pushed him off her wrist, scolding him for getting greedy (it was so hard not to, with nectar of the gods!) she put on some good music, helped herself to something from his fridge, and started dancing. Morgan made every day a party, just by being around. Incredibly refreshed (had some of his rage been fueled by vampiric thirst? He'd have to apologize to Caleb later) and feeling much more clear-headed, he cranked it up and let the good times roll.

Raj came banging on the door about the noise, but was promptly handed a drink and a place to unwind. Then Vlad showed up unannounced and uninvited, but Gaston was feeling unusually expansive and it seemed a party was happening, so the more the merrier.

And Gaston kept pouring, and everyone kept passing.

Then everyone was heading home, staggering. He accompanied Morgan downstairs to see her off, and she dared him to streak, 

which he really enjoyed despite the cold, and apparently so did Morgan, even after his clothes were back on!

He was stunned when she threw her arms around him and drew him into her warmth and softness. The heavenly scent of her conspired with the haze in his brain, to overpower all else.

She half-pulled him upstairs and locked her enticing lips to his in a way that he had fantasized about when they first became friends, before he met Caleb.

Caleb...! He was struggling to think but drowning in bliss as she pressed herself against him, her scent intensifying, her breathing and pulse rate quickening, her body heat ratcheting up...all he had to do was let go, give in, let it take over...she was not taking no for an answer..

_Go to jail...go directly to jail...do not pass Go, do not collect $100..._ whatever remained of his conscious mind flickered out in answer to the primal urgency of her heat. It was the most perfect feeling he had ever known. Unity of body, mind, soul, destiny. There was no going back. He lost himself.

* * *

In the morning, Morgan woke first, and was about to get something from the fridge, when she was startled by someone at the computer.

"What are you doing here?!" she blurted, suddenly aware she was in her camisole.

"I have a key," said Caleb softly, "and I could ask the same."


	4. The Apology

How long had he been there? Morgan felt herself blushing. She was already furious with herself for getting so wasted that she...did that...with Gaston, her best friend. Who was in a relationship. "I uh...partied too hard last night and.." she faltered. "You don't say," he said, unable to avoid scenting Gaston. Through her. Oh yes, they had! Quite thoroughly, in fact.

Morgan grabbed her clothes and was gone as soon as she could yank them on over her camisole. 

Caleb had come to offer an olive branch, and to ask for one in return. But he couldn't face Gaston now. He left for the gym, instead.

At the heavy bag, it all came out. Anger, then tears. Gaston had chosen.

Meanwhile Gaston couldn't avoid Wolfsbane Manor. His baby girl was there, and she needed him no matter what. 

When Caleb got home, Gaston was just coming downstairs. Caleb said nothing as Gaston passed him.

He let out a sigh and sat down heavily at the kitchen table.

"Caleb."

This wasn't going to be easy, but he had to try.

"Caleb, if you never want to speak to me again, you'd be within your rights. I acted deplorably."

This merited a sidelong glance under those gorgeous lashes.

"I want to tell you I'm thinking clearly for the first time in a long time, and our relationship was-" Caleb sat upright, arms crossed, nostrils flared. This was not going well. "-was based in friendship in the beginning, and I want to keep that friendship..."

Caleb was now stiffly upright, lips pinched. "So you're saying it's over between us."

Gaston's heart sank, hearing it. "No... I wanted to say I'm sorry for how awful I've been. I don't know what got into me at the club, why it was such a big deal, you dancing with that guy... why I took it out on you, called you names..." he started stumbling over his words under Caleb's reproachful glare.

He tried to start again. "I was in need of...blood...lately. I was out of plasma packs and had to pay the rent, and..."

"You could have asked," Caleb said, "I keep them on hand."

True. Why was he able to ask Morgan for her actual blood, but couldn't bring himself to bum a few plasma packs from Caleb? Maybe it was her blood he'd wanted...and she had consented, and given him far more...and he could never be sorry, not if he were honest..

"But anyway, I wasn't myself, I was parched, and my judgement was off, and Morgan did me a favor...:" That came out all wrong.

Caleb was hissing softly between his teeth. A very bad sign. "How much longer," he asked, his voice dangerously soft, "must I be insulted in my own kitchen, listening to your tawdry confessions?!" He pushed his chair back and rose, straightening his jacket.

He indicated the door, painfully formal. His face was an ugly shade as he flourished a hand in parting. "Good day!" It was a command, not a request.

Gaston sputtered, trying to formulate words. Could he beg forgiveness? Caleb's eyes flashed and the formality was broken, and Gaston saw raw hurt where had been angry composure. He dismissed Gaston with a hand, and his voice came rough with tears.

"Bitch, please!"

Gaston was shocked. Caleb wasn't finished.

"Here's your key. I forgot to leave it, when I was THERE THIS MORNING!" He fixed Gaston with a look that said everything.

Oh, to be a leaf that could blow away, unnoticed! Shame engulfed Gaston.

Standing so close, he caught Caleb's scent again. Like sandalwood, with a hint of ozone before a lightning strike.

It brought back the first time he knew that scent, when fear of the forbidden gave way to trust. Caleb offered unconditional love and understanding. Gaston found sanctuary against his own confusion and shame, in Caleb's arms. Night bled into day while time stood still and healing took place. He felt Caleb's delicate hands again, skimming his stomach like birds' wingtips on water, sending ripples across the surface, then bursting skyward in unison, shattering the silence with their cries.

The realization of what he was losing opened before him like a chasm. He needed to grab Caleb's hand, to halt the separation before it unraveled reality and they both fell through.

If he could only take Caleb in his arms now, make him realize... _Just give me one chance, I'll prove it to you...don't let us go...  
_

Caleb was unyielding as cold steel.

"Just keep walking."


	5. Caleb Calms Down

After soundly rejecting Gaston's attempted apology, Caleb knew he needed time alone, to think, instead of only feeling. He had given himself over to rage, more from Gaston's lack of transparency than anything else, but he was ashamed of losing his temper like that.

If Gaston were generally easygoing about love, it wouldn't have carried quite the sting. Caleb had loved more than one person, simultaneously, in the past, and so long as everyone involved agreed with it, it could be a very pleasant arrangement. But Gaston was very rigid in his boundaries when it came to love, was not given to sharing; Caleb knew this now. Which made it all the more devastating when he stumbled across the unavoidable evidence that Gaston had given himself in full, to Morgan. Because Gaston did not do such things without _meaning_ it, and likewise wasn't comfortable with plural love. So that could only mean he had chosen Morgan, instead of, rather than in addition to, Caleb.

Lilith wisely withheld her usual dispensing of advice this time, and gave him space.

When he first met Gaston, he had found him very attractive physically, but also in personality. He was young and untried, surely, but also had a confidence and openness to him. It turned out Gaston was going to need a friend, because he had been the victim of a sort of bite-and-run; he'd had no idea who the vampiress was, who chose him that night, or even that he had been turned.

The transformation that Gaston underwent had been more traumatic than Caleb was prepared for. He'd never actually helped someone else through it, but had read the usual descriptions and thought he knew what to expect. The warning that it was, in rare cases, unsuccessful (and fatal) was something he skimmed across. And he had been confident in his ability to hold Gaston's hand through it, until suddenly it seemed to take a turn for the worse, but by then he didn't have time to think or research. Something was going wrong...Gaston was not going to make it. And Caleb found himself on his knees, old rosary in hand. In desperation, he tried something he had only read about, and bit his own wrist, and held it across Gaston's mouth...this was normally part of turning, but could also be used for healing...he had no idea if it would stop the transformation entirely, but if it could keep it from killing him completely... Gaston had started choking, spluttering to life, struggling against Caleb's wrist. And the nightmare was averted, and Caleb had dropped his head on Gaston's chest and wept with relief.

The days following were a blur, but Caleb stayed with him, getting him back on his feet and used to his new existence. And then Gaston led him to the lighted basketball court outside, to introduce him to the game.

The close body contact at the hoop meant lots of...brushing, and Caleb was having a hard time focusing on the game, but contained himself. If Gaston noticed, he didn't show it. Too bad, but hardly the first time Caleb had let himself love someone who couldn't return it...he'd have to play it off, not show his disappointment. But then Gaston excused himself momentarily, and returned with something behind his back.

And that was the start, as they, say, of a beautiful relationship. He had yet to learn, then, that he and Gaston had some different philosophies about love.

Caleb had long maintained that he didn't put fences around love, that love could only be touched with an open hand. To close a hand around it was to lose it. He had loved many times, with a light heart and a mutual "lightness of being" and there had not been sadness at parting, nor of sharing with others. 

But Gaston had never given himself, prior to the night with the vampiress that he thought was just a dream. No, Gaston's self-imposed purity wasn't due to a lack of desire, but an unusual dedication to antiquated, but earnest, ideals of love.

Then there was Morgan. Caleb had known once he got close enough to catch her scent, that she was special on a cellular level, with the kind of blood that could sorely tempt. At least she had taken Gaston's transformation in stride, and his new relationship with Caleb. But she was an innocent who walked where angels feared to tread, her love of mischief, and hard-partying ways, in direct contradiction to her innate goodness. Then again, she had grown up sheltered, and was only recently of the age at which vampires could consider her fair game, without answering to Vlad's tribunal. Harsh though his justice might be, Vlad took his ministerial role in the keeping of order, seriously. Vampires by law and custom, had very definite rules about family and clan ties, and usually went out of their way to avoid stepping on each other's wingtips. Blood feuds and clan wars were, thankfully, a thing of the past.

But now, Caleb mused, it was time to look at the present, and think of the future. Gaston and Morgan, had happened, and that union firmly disincluded Caleb. He still didn't know whether Morgan and Gaston had exchanged anything beyond the physical, yet. But now that Morgan was of age, her fragrant blood would be attracting the interest of any vampire who crossed her path. However, if she were either claimed vampirically, or married to, Gaston, she would become part of the Vatore House, since Gaston was Lilith's vampiric offspring. Which would protect her from outside vampiric interest, whether sanguine or prurient. Much as he didn't want to face Gaston now, he would have to find out what Gaston's intentions were, toward Morgan. 

Lilith had often said it was Caleb's softness that made her hardness necessary, and urged him to cultivate his backbone. She mistook his gentle demeanor for weakness. When he had discovered that his own sister had been the one who stole Gaston's ability to choose his own destiny, (taking in one night, his innocence, his humanity, and his choice in when and whether to father a child) Lilith couldn't suspect how close she had come to learning how much backbone Caleb had. But in time he had come to forgive, because she hadn't known where Gaston lived at the time, having only stumbled upon him passed out after a party at someone else's house. Gaston lived in San Myshuno, so it was by luck that Caleb and he had met at a club, and Caleb noticed the fresh marks on Gaston's neck and struck up a conversation.

Suddenly his heartache at losing Gaston as a lover, seemed a small and selfish concern. There was so much to do, but all he wanted now was to sleep. Perchance to dream... much love to The Bard, for solace against lonesome nights.


	6. Morgan's Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan tries to fix what she sees as the damage she did to Gaston and Caleb's relationship, and Caleb discovers she's missing some important information.

After practically running from the unexpected encounter with Caleb, the morning she emerged from Gaston's bedroom, Morgan avoided both of them for a while, deeply ashamed of herself both for coming between them and for a serious lapse of protocol on her part when it came to friendships. Of course she had struggled with attractions to Gaston from time to time, since they met, but she knew better than to fall in love with a friend, and lose both the friendship and the love, forever.

As for that wild night of abandon with Gaston, she hoped always to cherish the memory (and could never regret that her first time had been so perfect), but intended never to let it happen again, nor to admit what it had meant to her, lest she be tempted again. She couldn't see him again until her feelings were under control. She still saw Caleb's face as she came from Gaston's bedroom, when she closed her eyes.

In the weeks since that night, solitude by the sea had been comfort. She had always gone there with her grandfather, and she went there to commune with his memory and that of her mother, these past weeks, despite the snow, ice, and treacherous footing. Maybe she loved things better, when they were untamed and challenging. She was ready now, to face Caleb and set things to rights.

When she arrived at Wolfsbane Manor, both Vatores were outside.

She steeled herself. Deep breath. 

"Uhh.... Caleb? I know you have cause to hate me, but can I please just talk to you a minute? About what happened last month, at Gaston's. It's really important."

* * *

Caleb scented Morgan as she came walking toward Wolfsbane Manor. He waited, wondering what she intended.

Up close, she smelled more strongly of Gaston than ever. Something inside him that had been holding out hope, flickered out.

Caleb paused to arrange his face before looking up. Best to make this as clean and painless as possible. He knew it was the right thing to do. He asked her in, served her cake and polite inquiries first, observing the ritual pleasantries which allowed civilization to proceed even against the backdrop of human passions.

She seemed ill at ease, unable to start. He cleared his throat.

"Morgan, I'm glad you came. I want you to know, you and Gaston have my blessing. I have placed my relationship with him in the past. You and he need to know I won't hold forth any objections." He was grateful he hadn't served himself any cake, as it would have lodged in his throat.

He looked up at a strange sound. Was she choking? No, just emotional.

When she found her voice, it all came out at once: "Oh, Caleb, you don't understand! It was all my fault! We were both wasted, and I dared him to streak, and then... he really wouldn't have -he loves you, and I feel terrible! Please don't tell me it's over between you, all because of something stupid I did when I wasn't thinking straight!"

Well, this was certainly not what he had expected. What to do? He made an excuse to check on his niece so he could think, but Morgan followed him upstairs.

There was a line between nobility and outright foolishness, and she appeared determined to cross it. Or had she simply not thought things through?

"Morgan, I appreciate what you're trying to do...but you might want to reconsider, given the circumstances." She looked nonplussed. This was getting them nowhere. Being this direct was distasteful, but appeared necessary. "So... it was without love, then, that you shared his bed?" He hoped his voice held steady. She blushed furiously. And smelled delectable, but he steeled himself against that base impulse. 

There was tension in her voice when she finally answered. "Of course I care deeply for Gaston, but as a _friend_. He was hurting from that fight with you, and we got high and did something stupid! That's all it was. It won't happen again!" 

Well _this_ was a fine kettle of fish! What did she intend to do, about-

She swayed suddenly, looking wan, and he took her elbow to steady her.

"Would you like to sit down?" he asked, nervously eyeing the stairwell so close by.

"Nah, I'm fine...something must have been wrong with that cake.."

He realized the implied slights to his skill as host and chef, were unintended. Apparently she preferred not to confide in him. Or else....he regarded her more intently, probing for insight...

  


And realized with shock and pity:

_She doesn't know!_

Oh dear. Well, she would soon enough, and would need a friend.

__

"Morgan, listen to me. You need to take some time to think about your relationship with Gaston. Your feelings may change. And you two need to talk. Soon." 

He looked down, hiding the tears that were forming.

"I care about you, you know. Both of you," he admitted. It was the truth, after all.

  
"Oh Caleb, I care, too! About both of you!" She threw her arms around him in an impulsive hug. She had no idea how much he needed it right then. 

  
Later, tending his niece (who also smelled faintly of the two people he loved best: his sister, and Gaston), Caleb realized he couldn't hold a baby and a grudge simultaneously. How could one of these, ever be wrong? 

He wasn't able to focus well on the evening round of chess. "Lilith, there is news."

"About Morgan? I smelled her. If she didn't announce it to you, my advice is, it's between her and Gaston."


	7. Gaston has time to think

Gaston hadn't heard from Morgan since their night together. She was ignoring his texts, and courage was failing him. He hadn't washed his sheets in weeks, because they still held her scent, and he needed to know that it had actually happened.

Likewise he hadn't tried to talk to Caleb after that awful day when he let him know with all the subtlety of an exacto knife pounded in by a sledge hammer, that he had seen Morgan leaving that morning, and there was nothing more to discuss. 

Dark Meditation helped, but it only went so far.

The shame and confusion over his feelings toward Morgan and Caleb both, made him not want to leave his apartment. He shrank from the memory of the terrible words he had hurled at Caleb, and seeing his face crumple in pain. How could he claim to love anyone, when he was becoming a raging monster? And how could he reconcile his feelings for Morgan, with his feelings for Caleb? It didn't work that way. You couldn't worship two Gods, and you couldn't commit yourself wholly, to two people. Love could not be divided and given out in half-measures.

When he had difficulty keeping up with his workload, the doctor had given him Xanax, and it took the edge off so he could function.

Lilith couldn't have known when she seduced him in the dream-that-wasn't-a-dream, that he had never given himself that way, because it was sacrosanct to him. And they remained strangers, because he couldn't talk to her, even though they shared a _child_. It tore him up every day, the position she had placed him in.

Was his love with Morgan, real? Because every time he slept in those sheets, he relived the union that had felt like transfiguration into a higher state. He could believe now, why it was called the little death, 'le petit mort', because he had felt in that moment, closer to God than to earth, and reluctant to return to his body. When he did, it was with a calm clarity of purpose and a feeling of joy that made everything seem very simple, that once seemed complicated. But he awoke to find her gone. And she hadn't yet returned.

Were they meant to be? Or was her extraordinary blood like a drug to him, blinding him to the truth, making him believe in falsehoods?

And what of his love with Caleb? It hadn't manifested until after Caleb saved his life. During the Transformation that nearly killed him, Caleb had stayed with him, held his head as he vomited, half-carried him when he could barely stand, and tucked him in bed when he was by turns feverish and shaking. Then he remembered a inchoate nightmare, of blood in his mouth, choking him, something held across his face, struggling feebly against it, but having no choice but to swallow lest he inhale it instead. Caleb's wrist fell away as he dropped his head on Gaston's chest, weeping. But soon after, he started seeing Caleb with different eyes, responding to him in new ways. But Gaston had never before been attracted to men, and still didn't see any _other_ men, that way.

Whatever the case, so long as he stayed away from both of them, he could think. He popped another Xanax, and this time, followed it with a joint.


	8. You Can't Fix Stupid

Propped up by Xanax, cannabis, and booze, Gaston felt he was functioning better without feeling so much.

There was a knock, but a moment later, a key sounded in the lock and the door swung open. It was Morgan.

 _If you think of angels, do they appear, or is that only the devil?_ pondered Gaston.

She cleared her throat, grateful for a chance to hold the door open a little longer. Air exchange was badly needed.

__

"Looks like I got here in the nick of time!" she joked, busying herself making tea.

"In time for what?" he asked automatically, playing along.

"In time for Nick!" she giggled, bringing a couple of cups of Healthy Green.

"Where is he, I'll kill him!" he teased, laughing for real now, at their inside joke. God, it was good to be joking around with her again!

"Are you _blushing_ , Morgan?"

 _Was_ she blushing? Suddenly it was awkward.

She changed the subject. "Seriously, you've got to take better care of yourself," she admonished, "you might need yourself, someday."

A shadow fell across him, his smile dropped off.

"If you gave a shit, you could have answered a text," he returned.

"I DO give a shit, you dope! Why do you think I'm here?!"

The hurt resurfaced, bringing anger with it. "To explain why you haven't returned my calls, my texts? For a MONTH!? How about to tell me WHY you didn't ever mention that Caleb was here that morning when you left! No, I had to walk right into that one blind! Does that sound about right?!" The memory of Caleb's face, both in rage and in hurt, all of it Gaston's fault, scored a fresh wound across his heart.

Here came the damned emotions again. He popped another Xanax.

God, now she had tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry --I was so humiliated...I just ran..." 

He felt _that_ one go in! Was that really how she felt?

" I _humiliated_ you?!"

"No, but you frustrate me tremendously. You _know_ I love you, Gaston, -" she trailed off, as her eyes caught on his and hung there.

Okay, now his head was spinning. He didn't know what to hope for. But he had to know.

"Morgan, it was real. To me. Was it just a game, to you?" There, it was out. He had suffered a month in the prison of doubt and self-loathing. Time to end it one way or another. His nerves were starting up again.

She got up to mix a drink, and downed it fast before answering.

She swallowed the last, took a deep breath, "Not a game..."

He rose and grabbed her hand, something bright rising up inside-

"But a mistake! I made a _mistake,_ okay?"

She jerked her hand free. Shame uncoiled from his gut and strangled him from the inside.

Suddenly she didn't look so well.

"Hey, you okay?" he called to her back as she dashed for the bathroom. Holy shit, she needed to take it easy on the partying!

"Drink on an empty stomach," she called, her voice thick. He heard her being violently sick. Shit, even he wasn't that bad off, and he'd been on a three-day bender!

The door wasn't locked, so he went in and handed her a washcloth and a glass of water.

"Looks like you need to take your own advice, and take care of yourself," he chided. "Or," he heard himself saying, "you could move in with me, and let me take care of you!"

She froze, and he wondered what insanity had made that come out of his mouth.

"I'd cook for you and everything!" he tried to make it a joke. Sort of.

To his immense relief, she relaxed and rewarded him with a small laugh.

"That would be another big mistake!" she said, "And how would that work, with you and Caleb?"

He was glad her back was still turned so she didn't see him wince. Why did he have to keep doing dumb things? The tagline of a favorite standup comic answered for him in his head:

_"Because You Can't Fix Stupid!"_


	9. Big News

Morgan left Gaston's place feeling like one hurdle, at least, had been cleared. Hard as it had been, she had done the right thing, and resisted letting their friendship get further tangled up in...complications. Though she had to admit to near-panic when he joked about her moving in. Even though he reeked of alcohol, sweat, and despair (due to her screwing up his relationship with Caleb, she reminded herself) she still felt a sense of shelter, near him. Wanted to get closer to it, let it enfold her and let down her guard like she had that night...

 _Got to stop doing that, or you're never going to get over it!_ she reprimanded herself.

She texted Caleb to meet her at the club.

"So what's the big news?" he asked, prepared to feign surprise, relieved he wasn't going to have to tell her after all.

"I talked to Gaston like you said," she announced, "and I cleared things up, so you don't have to be noble and give us your blessing or whatever, there's no US now."

Since he was just standing there dumbfounded, she added, "You two can get back together. With each other...you know...."

That was not what he was expecting. He had no idea what to say to that. So he just followed her inside.

She ordered them each a drink, so he sat next to her and accepted it graciously. Then realized. Uh...wait a minute...

She was raising the glass to her lips...! Uh..! In a panic, he snatched her drink and downed it in one. She stared, stunned.

Desperate for an explanation, but lacking one, he took her arm. "Let's dance!"

"Why Caleb, I didn't know you cared!" she quipped sarcastically, blushing despite herself. 

He laughed awkwardly. Ugh.

His confidence returned on the dance floor. He started to relax. She danced close to him. Too close, because now he could feel her body heat, and smell her...he was responding, hard. He leaned in, inhaled, as she leaned into him...

 _What the hell am I doing?!_ He caught himself. His head caught up a moment later. It had to be that eau-de-Gaston she was always steeped in now, confusing him. If she didn't yet know of her condition, he'd have to tell her, before she decided to go order another round, because the desperate maneuver he pulled, was only good once. One more and he'd be on the floor. He was a bit of a lightweight, when it came to strong drink.

He heaved a sigh. Now or never. 

He told her...and he wasn't sure what to expect, but this definitely wasn't it.

Was it...so very bad?

Through tears she asked, "Why did it have to be him and not you?"

 _What?!_ He simply stared, stunned.

Thank God he didn't have to say anything, because she continued, "He can't handle it. He already has a daughter that you're more like a father to, than an uncle, yet you don't complain. I bet he couldn't even raise a goldfish or a potted plant."

So that was what she had meant. He felt the need to defend Gaston, who had actually stopped coming by, even to help with Rose. "But he has tried to be a good father. Despite having to see Lilith, and... me." The realization hurt.

But Morgan couldn't raise a child alone. She wasn't like Lilith. "You must go to him. He deserves to know." 

"You're not going to tell, are you?" her eyes were pleading.

Not tell? But how did she expect....? 

"This isn't the kind of secret that keeps, Morgan," he sighed.

"I can keep a secret if you can!" she said solemnly, gazing at him meaningfully.

He hadn't considered that, was surprised and dismayed that she would suggest it.

"You mean you want me to say it was _my_ -"

She looked startled. "No, of course not! I'm just saying, he doesn't have to _know_ , if it doesn't actually have to _happen."_

This wasn't making sense. "But it _has_ happened, Morgan! What do you mean by..."

Her eyes sparkled with tears.

_Please don't mean that, Morgan!_

_You took him from me, don't take his child as well._

__

_Let me adopt..._


	10. "I break everything I touch!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaston tries chemical warfare on his demons, and Caleb's bomb misses the target.

The combination of Xanax, alcohol, and cannabis, took the edge off his anxiety so he could keep working to pay the rent, but he also hadn't bothered to clean lately. Nobody was going to see his apartment anyway, so it didn't matter.

When Candy texted him with an invite to some rave at the bluffs, he was very, very stoned, and wanted to opt out, but Candy said if he didn't come, she was going to personally come pry him out of his apartment and MAKE him come. It was true he'd been holed up a while. But he took a little something extra, before heading out, to get into a better party mood.

"You look like you could use a break," observed Candy, "and I have just the thing. Wanna roll?" He took the Molly she offered, and downed it with the rest of his drink. 

Soon, he was completely lit.

Then SHE appeared... "Gaston? Candy's sister Yuki told me you were here with her...can we...talk?"

It was okay... words couldn't hurt now. He was on another frequency where pain didn't exist.

She was trying to reach him but he was not on her plane.

She was telling him something...it was like buzzing...

But then, he felt a skip in the cosmic record. The music wavered...suddenly he realized everything felt false, a ruse.

They were drifting apart like galaxies at the end of time, light and warmth unable to keep up with growing distance...love was dying...

"Hey, you okay?" he heard her voice through a cold distance. It was his fault. He was the one too heavy for the delicate web of light to sustain, his gravity was ripping through it, breaking it. He had to warn her before it got to her.

"Get away from me...I break everything I touch..."

* * *

Whether it was mere hours, or days, later, Gaston was disturbed by Caleb at the door. 

"We need to talk," said Caleb as he tried not to notice the squalor Gaston was living in.

Gaston winced at this, but busied himself at the bar.

"Want anything while I'm getting?" Gaston asked, mixing himself up some hair of the dog. And pretending he wasn't quaking inside.

"No, thank you, it's _early_ ," replied Caleb, a bit icily. He hated what he was seeing. But he had come on a mission.

"Gaston, you may not be ready to hear this, and certainly not in this state, but I need to know your intentions toward Morgan. Because we were together, and-"

Gaston's jealousy spiked. _Of course! So he came to make sure his path was clear? Was that why they had both been avoiding him?_

"Well, I'm so happy for you both," snarled Gaston, taking another slug of his drink. Should have seen it coming.

Caleb made a gutteral sound in his throat. He leaned toward Gaston, and whispered "Listen! You don't understand! She's _pregnant!"_

Gaston nearly stumbled. 

"Well then I guess...congratulations...?" _So how long had **this** been going on? Was it while WE were...? _ His hand clenched around his glass.

For an instant Caleb stared.

He controlled the urge to smack some sense into Gaston. "It's yours, you fool!" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"What?! How...! Oh god, are you sure?" It felt like a gut-punch.

Caleb's ire was rising, "The scent is unmistakable. You'd have known, you'd have detected it yourself, if you weren't so polluted!" He could see, now, where Morgan's lack of confidence in announcing it to Gaston, may have had merit. Poor girl.

Gaston was still in shock but knew if he let the haze wear off, there would be hell to pay.

"Not as polluted as I'm gonna be. Does she need some cash, is that why you came?"

It was Caleb's turn to feel sucker-punched. So _that_ was his answer?! 

"I don't know why I came. Keep your filthy cash!" Tears threatening to unman him, Caleb left in a black vampiric blur.

Alone, even the haze in his mind wasn't enough. It was hitting home.

_Oh God, I really do break everything I touch!_


	11. Caleb's Coffin Epiphany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb conceives a practical solution, and sleeps, perchance to dream.

Caleb flew from Gaston's apartment in anguish, and secluded himself in the attic coffin he and Lilith kept for emergencies or guests with special sleeping needs, until he could function rationally. Thank goodness Lilith recognized his needs for alone-time, and let him be.

He knew, now, why Morgan had been so reluctant to just go to Gaston and tell him. He saw, now, her predicament. She was going to need support, and obviously felt herself without it, if she could so easily consider...doing away with...the child.

So, Morgan remained without protection, since Gaston didn't appear willing to step up, and in truth was in no state to. She was now in a very compromising position, not only for the baby's sake and her own in the ordinary sense, but also due to having the kind of blood that would attract all kinds of vampiric attention until and unless she were protected from that...and she could only be protected from that, by a Vampire. If Gaston wouldn't or couldn't do it, Caleb himself was in the perfect position to resolve the problem. Better, in fact.

There were very sound reasons why it would be the perfect solution, for everyone. Gaston would be off the hook, since that was what he apparently wanted, curse him! Morgan and the child would have the Vatore name and Clan alliances. And... he could only admit this to himself in the protective darkness of the coffin... Caleb could be the father he had not realized until just recently, that he longed to be. 

He just had to present himself well to Morgan, and pray she had sense enough to accept. Peace filled his mind as he felt himself relax to sleep.

* * *

When the time came the following day, it all happened so naturally. He felt no qualms, only confidence and purpose. He announced his intentions to Lilith, and left with the ring in a box in his coat pocket.

Knocked smartly at the door of her father's house, and was greeted by Dominic, who was surprised but polite. He was glad it was Dominic who answered, because it was he whom Caleb needed to speak with, first. And to his relief, Dominic Fyres approved and sent Siobhan to get her sister.

In front of the family, he proposed, nervous but buttressed by the their approval. Morgan didn't make him wait. Her sad puzzled eyes suddenly changed to joy, and she jumped into his arms! It was as if everything had led up to this point.

And then they knew it was okay to be together. They were standing beside the coffin, on the top floor of Wolfsbane Manor. She was in that same camisole. She didn't want to wait any longer. She bared her neck, inviting him in. A sharp intake of breath as his fangs sank in, then shivers traveled down him as he drank her warm sweetness in.

But not too much, no...she couldn't be tired, for what was to come... she was eager, waiting. He showed her inside...

And beckoned her to join him. Her smile turned mischievous as her eyes met his...

And then they were together inside, limbs entangled, flesh bared at last, her heat and scent enveloping him...almost there...could feel her...

But then he remembered the baby. There was a baby in the coffin with them! Was it okay? Panic gripped him and he was rising from the coffin, returning to himself, covered in sweat...oh no....

He opened and sat up in the coffin, fully awake. 

Oh man. That hadn't happened to this degree, in a very long time. His clothes were a mess. At least the coffin wasn't. Thank goodness no one ever had to know.


	12. The Ring

Morgan was lying in her bed, listening to music and doing her best to shield herself from all awareness of the world, when her father called out that someone was here to see her.

_What fresh hell,_ she grumbled inwardly as she made her way downstairs. She just wanted to be alone. She needed to think. Or not think. Maybe both.

His serious demeanor got her attention. "Caleb? Uh, come on in. Do you like green tea?" she was stumbling over her words. Had she ever had him over, before?

She was grateful she had something to do with her hands. He took a seat on a barstool in the kitchen while she fumbled her way through tea. She couldn't forget that disastrous meeting at the club, when he had excused himself in tears after dropping a bomb in her lap.

"I have come on a matter of some importance," he began, awkwardly.

"What's going on?" she asked, pouring the tea. She pushed his cup toward him, waiting for an explanation.

"Morgan, I..." his voice trailed off.

She sat down next to him, concerned. Took his hand, and searched his eyes. "Caleb, seriously, what's wrong?"

He steadied himself, then pulled out a box. Opened it. It held an odd-looking ring with a stylized letter V along one side of the stone. She gasped. What the heck was he doing?

"Morgan, I've given this much consideration, and I want you to hear me out. Will you consider...would you...accept...my name?"

She couldn't have been more shocked, if he had proposed they eat Gaston for dinner. She couldn't speak. Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth.

He paled. Dropped to one knee. "Morgan, I'm asking you to marry me."

 _Oh. My. God. Was he crazy?!_ She bolted upstairs.

She was on her bed, face-down, laughing or crying, she wasn't sure. Maybe both.

Caleb sat down beside her. Touched her shoulder. She wanted to punch him, but instead, grabbed him and pulled him down, then they were rolling. She landed atop him in a tangle of bedclothes, her hair in his mouth.

"You crazy idiot!" she gasped, between either sobs or hysterical laughter, "You'd MARRY ME because..." she had to stop long enough to catch her breath,"...Gaston and I were too stupid to use a CONDOM!?" Then she was laughing, so hard she was clutching her sides.

He held her for a few minutes while she recovered. Then disentangled himself from her, rose, straightened his jacket, and cleared his throat. "I don't think you understand. Since Gaston has apparently neither asked for your hand, nor Claimed you according to vampiric custom, I'm offering you protection. You don't realize...how vulnerable you are."

She was sitting up now, regarding him seriously. "I don't think I'm ready to marry anyone," she said, "and I wouldn't do it for convenience, though you're sweet to ask." She got up, and hugged him. "Please don't take this hard, Caleb. You just really shocked me. That came out of nowhere."

He took a step back. "Take time to consider before you say no," he urged her, "and know I would not expect you to...consummate...but think of the child."

She paled at this. "I do. All the time."

"Then you'll at least consider?"

"I'll consider," she said.

"Wear this in the meantime. As a token." he presented the ring, "Wearing it will offer you some protection."

"From what?"

He sighed. "Unwanted attention. Gaston and I aren't the only vampires in the area, and some of them aren't nice."

She shuddered. "Okay...if you insist..." she held out her hand, and felt an unexpected shiver as he slipped it onto her finger. It fit.

It gave her an odd feeling to be wearing it. But if it would act as a repellent for these other vampires he was talking about, she would get over feeling weird about it.

'


	13. Desperate times, desperate measures

Gaston slid deeper into the abyss. Morgan had tried to talk to him at that rave, but he had been completely high, and didn't want to listen. And now he knew. 

Moments of lucidity brought anguish. He should call her. Say something. DO something. He had already asked her, didn't realize he meant it til the words were out, but he DID want to take care of her, as he had so recklessly suggested on her last visit, when she had only come to tell him he was nothing to her, that he was a mistake. But what if she had no intention of giving him a chance, even now? And what if he didn't deserve one?

Calming the demons was imperative. When his doctor cut him off from an increase in his prescription for Xanax, he found a dealer who would sell him the extra he needed to stay level. But soon that wasn't enough, and his dealer had other options to offer.

Good stuff. Expensive stuff. He couldn't afford it on his paycheck, but found that he could open a franchise, so to speak. Dealers were okay with it so long as he continued buying from them, which kept the profit margin lean, but enough to finance his personal needs. And that was all he needed, just to function, keep his job, and keep the bills paid. He wasn't out to ruin any lives. God knew he'd done enough harm.

What was worse: falling apart completely, or staying functional by illegal means? He couldn't afford to fall apart. Rose needed her Daddy, if he could ever work up the courage to go there and face Caleb again, and now, Morgan...! He had to keep himself going by any means necessary. Until he could function emotionally. He just had to make it, day by day. Which meant he needed sanity, and money. So he found a side hustle that satisfied both conditions. So he could keep his job, so he could be of any use to anyone.

* * *

Morgan didn't realize her condition was that evident til she walked past her dad in her favorite outfit. The change was plenty evident to him.

His support was the only thing that could have given her the courage and hope she needed, but he couldn't give it. Instead, he threatened to throw her out.

Her mother would have been supportive, if she were still alive. Now, all was lost.

The future seemed to contract. Caleb had even asked her to marry him, to get her out of this mess! How could she let him sacrifice himself, to save her from her own stupidity?! And Gaston...he couldn't handle his own life, let alone more complications. He still didn't know, and he was into some heavy stuff these days. There was only one way out of this, for her, for everyone. She would go party with him like old times, and sneak enough of what he was dealing, to end it all. And then she'd go out by the shore, somewhere where she could be at peace...

She threw on a loose top to hide her thickened waistline, and headed out. If she were hoping her dad would stop her, well...he didn't. That just confirmed to her she was right. She would solve all their problems at once. Maybe she'd be with her mom again...

* * *

Morgan knocked on Gaston's door, in a baggy top very unlike her usual style, trying very hard to act casual and failing miserably. She'd had a fight with her dad, she said, and was hoping she could hang out with him.

He realized something was wrong: she was hiding something.

He also realized now, how Caleb had known. He could detect it, now. It was undeniably his own. He didn't know how, but he knew. And then realized, there had to be a way forward, for them. She had to know how he felt, he had to risk it. Maybe she would see things differently about him, if she knew she could trust him. He could clean up, get into rehab, get some therapy...

Then she was asking if they could party together tonight.

He was horrified. _How could she even think of doing that, now!?  
_

"How 'bout we just chill instead?" he countered. _Play it cool..._

"o---kay," she faltered, looking nervous under his fixed stare.

He had to keep her there til he could figure out what to do. He couldn't let her do this.

He needed a diversion. "Want to hear something I've been working on?" He started jamming, hoping to keep her busy so he could formulate a plan. 

"Be right back," she called as she headed for the bathroom.

When he looked up, he noticed that something very expensive and high-quality that he reserved for high-rolling customers, was missing, and his brain clunked into place.

Heart in his throat, he was texting Caleb in a panic. He needed backup. He couldn't call the cops, not here. He heard water running.

"You okay in there?"

"Just washing my hands!"

Tried the door. Locked.

"I'm BUSY!" she yelled. It opened in the wrong direction to kick it in. Seconds ticked by as sweat beaded on his forehead.

The front door opened. Thank God for vampiric speed! Caleb looked pissed, but at least he had come!

"What's this 'emergency'?" Caleb demanded, irritation fading to concern when he saw Gaston's face.

Gaston pointed at the bathroom door and croaked, "Morgan!" Wasting no time, Caleb unlocked the door vampirically and had the half-empty bottle out of her hand like lightning, leaning her over the sink, finger down her throat, then gagging sounds and Caleb cursing. Then confusion, Caleb yelling. Morgan was crying. Good, that meant she was still-

He must have blanked out.

Something was wrong. Morgan was not okay...

What was going on? Oh no. He smelled blood. Knew something was terribly wrong. No...no please...

Oh God, it was too late...

Something inside him died too.

But she was going to live, right?

"Didn't she throw up?" he asked.

"Not enough," said Caleb. "Call emergency response. NOW!"


	14. The Aftermath

It was a big mess at the hospital, between the staff, Morgan's father (who wanted Gaston's blood but would settle for bringing him up on charges), Gaston being detained, and Caleb being questioned.

Caleb went home a shell. Please, Lilith. No talking right now. He was always crying lately. But he was running out of tears. Crawling into a coffin for the long stay, sounded appealing. 

But he had to say goodbyes first. 

* * *

After being released to her father's custody from the hospital with requirements to enter therapy and drug rehab, Morgan tried to fit back into her old life, but nothing was the same. It was as if she really had died, and was now back as a ghost in her former life. Or a transplant in her own body. Even if she tried to go back to life the way it was, everyone around her knew. She was the talk of the town! The pregnant teen OD/attempted suicide who miscarried! And from such a respectable family! Conversations between people she used to chat with, died down as she walked past. People stared, some with sad eyes and some with suspicion and dislike. But she was now The Other. Even her dad locked himself in his room when he came home, and never met her eyes or talked to her, and Siobhan tried to be supportive but ended up lecturing with told-you-so about hanging with the wrong crowd. Siobhan had ALWAYS been telling her so, warning her to conform, insisting her wayward spirit was a fatal flaw.

People tortured her even in their attempts at sympathy. It was not, as they implied, all for the best. Living became her punishment, as she mourned the loss of the tiny goldfish tail-flip she had felt already. She couldn't confide in anyone. She bore far worse than a scarlet letter, and it was all her own doing. She had had options, but she saw too late the wisdom in taking them. Caleb had offered her a way forward, selflessly. It was her own fear of facing life, and the censure of her father, that drove her to attempt her own destruction, and at even that, she had failed.

Ironically, the only two people she felt she could talk with now, must hate her. Gaston would never forgive her...apparently he knew it was his child and was sobbing openly even at the hospital, and now he'd been arrested. And Caleb...she'd never forget how angry, cold, and sad he looked, as she was being strapped to a gurney. His ring was still on her finger. She had prayed ardently that she would go ahead and die, so she'd never have to face him again. But that hadn't happened. Yes, surviving was surely the worst punishment.

All the more reason they had to talk.

Lilith answered the door, said that Caleb was upstairs, and proceeded to interrogate Morgan with the ruthless precision of a raptor. Being yelled at would have been easier. But she had already endured worse. Lilith's questioning was insensitive, but not cruelly intended. She had learned to distinguish the two.

He didn't look up or move as she entered the room. It was a long time before he spoke. 

"Why, Morgan?" He glanced at her with hollow eyes, "Was it true? Would you really rather have died, than...taken my hand?"

"I would have..." his voice choked off, _"...raised..."_ \--his voice rasped to a higher register-- _"the child!"_

She knew that, now, and could not deal with any more.

"Caleb, I.. I'm so sorry! I have to go now!"

She was leaving. It was now or never. He got in front of her. "Morgan, I'm going to go into hibernation. So this may be the last time you see me." 

"Then take me with you!" she cried, "Turn me!"

He recoiled. How could she even ask that of him?

"I'll do it." Lilith appeared suddenly, moving toward Morgan.

"NO!" Caleb moved at blur speed to block Lilith.


	15. Sunglasses Man

Lilith paused, surprised, then smiled, "I see! Well then, I defer to your claim, Brother," and with an elaborate bow and an unnecessarily roguish smirk, she whirled from the room. Morgan's cheeks grew pink, and Caleb was suddenly aware of his arms on either side of her against the wall, shielding her body with his. He stepped back and straightened his clothing, avoiding her eyes. "You shouldn't make life-altering decisions so impulsively," he admonished, only realizing when she flinched, how unfortunate a choice of words it was.

"I'll put the kettle on. Will you join me?" he asked, retreated to the steadying familiarity of the kitchen. When all else failed, put the kettle on. Lilith, determined not to miss anything, sped past them, and dug through the cabinets.

"I have just the thing for overwrought nerves," she chimed, "how does a blend of chamomile, passionflower, lemon balm, and just a touch of Valerian root, sound?"

Caleb sighed inwardly. He wanted a chance to talk with Morgan privately, and Lilith was doing her best to make that impossible.

"Rose just woke up from her nap," he remarked, keen hearing orienting on a toddler moving about upstairs. Lilith sped off on a mission even more pressing than eavesdropping.

They sipped their tea for a moment in silence.

"Want to get out of here?" he asked. His own decision could wait. Dancing would do them both good and get past all these mixed-up emotions.

* * *

At the club, a smartly-dressed stranger commanded the dancefloor.

He knew he was drawing notice, and that pleased him.

Most especially when he drew the notice of a young man dressed to stand out:

He danced with him, establishing rapport, sharing space. Then guided conversation just enough, held back just enough. Identity confirmed. Check. Now to more personal details while he bought him a drink. Excellent. Very forthcoming. After working his way back onto the dancefloor, conversing and dancing with various people a while, second target acquired.

He made sure she felt his gaze, just long enough, then continued dancing, fascinating her.

Then let her dance her way over.

Just give it time, and here she comes.

Ah, she likes to take the lead! Excellent. And she's a hugger. She didn't notice the bug.

Young and easily flattered by the attentions of a well-dressed, confident older man. It was almost too easy, and very pleasant, to get to know her. So this was the girl who started the domino effect? It would be someone as forward and beguiling as she was innocent and trusting. Of course, that made too much sense.

* * *

Gaston was called from his cell. Some big brass from another city was interested in him and frisked him personally.

Apparently the officer was either tired, or bored beyond belief as he pressed Gaston's hand to the print reader.

Then Gaston felt a sting like a wasp, and fell into black. He woke up in another cell. 

It was large, and contained a shower, toilet, and table with chairs. Pretty well-appointed. But what was that IV drip for? 

Cold fear settled in Gaston's stomach.


	16. Interrogation

After returning from the dance club, the awkardness was broken, and Caleb and Morgan could relax around each other again. She was staying at his place almost all the time now because things were so broken, at home. In fact she felt more at home at Wolfsbane Manor than anywhere else, and for his part, Caleb found his inner darkness lifting in her presence. Her perpetual conversation was like chipper birdsong, not unpleasant. Lilith being more busy now that Rose was a highly energetic toddler, gave them more time together. Her taste in food, however, left much to be desired... 

"You don't have to eat that," remarked Caleb as she came from the microwave with...what even was that?

"Don't have to, just want to!" she quipped.

He sighed, returned to his mixing bowl. At least he could show her what real food tasted like.

"Geek Con is in town. Wanna go with me?" she asked between mouthfuls of chicken nugget.

He considered. It wasn't his favorite, but he'd seen how that handsome stranger in shades had chatted her up at the club. What if Morgan ran into him there?

"Let's go!"

* * *

He moved through the crowd, enjoying himself while taking in the scene. Got to know quite a few locals, both from what they said, and what they didn't. Made a few mental notes, enjoyed some stall food. It was like being Santa, compiling a Naughty and Nice list. He chuckled.

The girl child who fancied herself a woman, was scoping him out from a distance, thinking he didn't notice. He let her continue to think that, while appearing to check out a cosplayer going by. But she didn't come up and greet him. Too bad. But he already had everything important from her anyway.

* * *

On arrival, Caleb made an excuse to separate, and decided to take in the scene in bat-form. From far above the crowd, he spotted Sunglasses Man readily. Morgan was hanging back nearby. Had he seen her? It was hard to tell. What was she doing? Spying on him? Trying to work up the nerve to approach him? Caleb moved in closer. A quick fly-by --and nearly dropped from the air in surprise. Sunglasses Man smelled of Gaston! He had to know. Once the convention ended, he tailed him in bat form, out of the city, all the way to an isolated ramshackle trailer dwelling. Was Gaston being held here? No matter what Gaston had done or become, he couldn't leave him to whatever Sunglasses Man had in store. 

* * *

After a shower and a change into clothing more fitting his next purpose, 

he went downstairs to his private workspace. Caught up on some loose ends for work, 

and donned an appropriate disguise.

The prisoner had discovered that his phone couldn't make any calls.

And he was looking at the IV with terror on his face. Excellent. Response in the face of fear would be very informative. 

As he stepped into the cell, he greeted Gaston cordially, and invited him to sit down.

"What is this place? Why am I here?!" demanded Gaston, though his voice shook.

"I ask the questions. You answer them," the man admonished threateningly. Now to see which direction a cornered rat would run.... He decided to start with Morgan first. See what Gaston would spill. "Tell me about the girl child," he began.

Gaston looked like he'd been stabbed. Must have hit a nerve about that feisty redhead.

"It was a...girl?" he whispered feebly.

 _What was that supposed to mean?_ Nonplussed, he remained silent, fixing Gaston with a questioning look.

The fight seemed to go out of Gaston. "Oh, god...it was an accident..!"

"Go on," he coaxed. He knew from her medical records, that the unfortunate girl child had been admitted while overdosed and miscarrying. Accompanying her and being questioned had been how Gaston had been detained, had his apartment searched, and then entered the criminal justice system. But what was he made of? Would he betray his friends in hopes of sparing himself?

"And-?" he prompted.

"We were partying hard, and she came onto me just the once," he choked, "and I didn't know she was pregnant til Caleb told me!"

 _Ohhhh...So THAT was what he was talking about._ He kept his face set. Mustn't show too much of a reaction.

"We're more interested in your associate Caleb. Any information you could offer as to his current whereabouts could be very helpful in getting you out of here..." he watched Gaston's face closely for signs of weakness, but saw only hardened resolve.

"You may as well kill me," said Gaston through clenched teeth, "Because I'm dead anyway and I won't cooperate!"

His jaw set and he folded his arms in an all-too-familiar gesture. Points for integrity. There had been enough suffering. Time for the charade to end.

"I promise you, you'll see your friends, very soon." Gaston seemed to slump. It was time to go to work.


	17. Liberation

Bat-Caleb saw Sunglasses leaving, waited a while to be sure, then transformed and tried vampiric entry on the front door of the shack. It unlocked! A drab interior with no one inside --but then he saw stairs leading down. Industrial flooring and doors led into a posh modern...home? Facility? More stairs, a vault...he homed in on Gaston the best he could, opened a door into a narrow office filled with monitors, a really high-end PC, machines of unknown purpose --and a tinted window, with Gaston on the other side!

In one piece, and --Caleb chuckled to see it-- playing on his phone. Of course. Relieved, Caleb exited the room and found the angled door to the cell. Vampiric entry...and nothing happened! He grabbed the handle and drew back in horror! It was like touching a hot stove! His keen hearing caught a sound.

Cursing, Caleb sped upstairs to intercept Sunglasses. "Mesmeratu..." Caleb breathed, focusing his energies. 

What was happening?

It didn't work!

Fear knotted Caleb's insides. The man was laughing! 

"I've had special training, Caleb!" _He knows my name?_ He couldn't believe Gaston would just have told everything about his friends. Did he torture him? Hot rage replaced fear. "I must say, Gaston has loyal friends. Come, I'll take you to him." Caleb followed him downstairs, thinking fast. 

They entered the narrow office, and the man sat down and opened the PC as if nothing were out of the ordinary. "Why are you holding him? Who are you?" demanded Caleb hotly. 

"I'm used to asking the questions. And you don't need to flex at me, Caleb. I know who you are, and you're no thug."

The man closed the PC. "He's been through a lot. I'll let him know you're here first. He doesn't need any more shocks to the system." With a sense of unreality, Caleb watched through the darkened glass as the man entered Gaston's cell.

Gaston stood as the cell door opened and this time a blond man, same suit and glasses, stepped inside. "Gaston, it's time to end this!" Confused, Gaston examined the man. Was he the same guy?

So this was it. He set himself. He wasn't going down without a fight!

The man reached toward him --every muscle knotted with what was left of his strength--and shook his hand. "You've acquitted yourself well, under bad circumstances. I'm impressed." 

Gaston wasn't buying it. This was some kind of psychological experiment. Or manipulation. Get his guard down; good cop bad cop kinda thing. "Caleb is here to see you."

_Oh no. They got Caleb._ Hope and courage he didn't know he still had, left. The man left, and returned with a seething Caleb on his heels. 

"Caleb, don't, it's a trap!" yelled Gaston, hoping Caleb could get out before-- Caleb turned on the man with vampiric speed.

But to Gaston's horror, it was ending almost as soon as it began. 

"Cut that out before someone gets hurt. I told you I had special training!" the man said, out of breath but otherwise more fine than any human should have been. "And equipment," he added, removing his sunglassess.

Gaston stared. Fell weakly to his knees, the world spinning. "Gordon?!" he gasped.


	18. Bro?

Gordon grasped Gaston's hand, to help him to his feet. And Gaston came alive like a coiled spring, "YOU--!" And bum-rushed him, sending them both sprawling into the IV rack. Pummeling everything he could reach with killing fury. Gordon got him in a lock, subdued him, and sat him down while Gaston struggled furiously. "Take it easy, bro! Let's go upstairs and talk!" 

* * *

Still shaking from a combination of adrenaline, desperate vampiric thirst, and severe drug withdrawal, Gaston made it up the stairs only by the indignity of being half-carried by Gordon. Caleb was silent, watchful, distrusting. Thinking.

"Here we are, this ought to fix both you gentlemen right up, for starters!" Gaston pulled bags of O negative from behind the bar, expertly mixed up a couple of Bloody Janes, and pushed them toward Caleb and Gaston, before mixing himself something.

Despite his rage, Gaston fell on his drink and downed it in a few gulps, slamming his empty back on the counter. His head was clearing. So, Perfect Gordon was back. The big brother he could never be as good as, the one he was supposed to be more like, the one who joined the military and then never made contact again. HE was the kidnapper, the interrogator?

"I think I owe you some answers," said Gordon, clicking on some music and lighting the fire as he moved to the living room, drink in hand. "When I joined the military, it was discovered that my...specific talents...could best be made use of in Covert Operations. So I disappeared into that world. But I always kept an ear out for you, bro. I knew what you were doing, and you seemed to be making a good start for yourself in San Myshuno. And I always meant to come visit, but things happened."

Gordon cleared his throat. "But then suddenly I got wind of your arrest, for dealing, and realized I hadn't kept as much an eye on you as I should've. So I took some personal leave, infiltrated the local police department, and posing as visiting brass, got access to you. With help from some people who owed me a few favors, I drugged you and transported you to safety here, and wiped your record."

"WHY?!" Gaston mixed his own drink this time.

"Because my little bro was in over his head, that's why. You were headed for the Grim Reaper with the stuff you were doing as well as dealing. I couldn't let you go down like that."

"But why hold me, terrorize me, interrogate me?"

Gordon sighed. "Because I had to know what kind of person you'd become. Were you still the Gaston I knew, inside, or had you turned into the kind of scumbag that can't be saved?"

"And what if I were, huh? What if I were exactly just that kind of scumbag?"

Gordon's face darkened. "That would have been most unfortunate, for us both."

Caleb hissed softly between his teeth.

"Easy there, Lover Boy. I'm not threatening Gaston. You can cool your jets." Gordon favored Caleb with a glance and an easy smile that Caleb disliked.

"So what happens now?" Gaston inquired warily.

"Now that your record's clean, we get YOU clean. And then we see. But since you lost both your job and your apartment after your arrest, unless you have a better idea, I would like you to stay here, with me. As my guest, and as my brother." He clapped Gaston in a hearty handshake. : 

BZZZT!

"Gotcha!" Gordon chortled.

"C'mon, you know that was funny...!" Gordon coaxed, sniggering. Some things never changed.

Gaston couldn't hide the smile curling up the corner of his mouth. "Doofgah!" he punched Gordon's arm.

And somehow it was like they were kids again.


	19. Unka Sad

At Wolfsbane Manor, life had eased into a companionable routine. Morgan had asked if she could stay, as an Au Pair or Mother's Helper to Lilith, after a falling-out with her father and sister had made it too uncomfortable to live with them. Lilith was only too glad to agree, and Caleb, with more time on his hands, was glad to be able to pursue a culinary career more seriously.

He found he didn't even mind her trying to help, while he was cooking.

But her knife skills were going to result in an accident if he didn't-

-OUCH!- ...teach her. He hissed between his teeth as she keened in pain.

"I can help..." he moved to take her hand. The scent of her blood was powerfully moving.

"I got it!" she called as she ran for the bathroom.

He controlled his mixture of desire and concern, and didn't follow, lest she feel pursued. Had she noticed? Had he repulsed her?

* * *

When he wasn't working or cooking, Caleb tried to keep busy with his niece.

Children grow fast, and Rose was no exception. While Gaston had been unavailable, she had grown from a baby to a running, squealing, chattering toddler, and had gravitated toward "Unka" as her surrogate father. And "Unka" found a great deal of comfort in chubby, sticky hands dirtying up his coat, clinging to him, begging for a story, and throwing light, laughter, and occasional tantrums, through the old house. A hurt place in his heart, was starting to heal.

Morgan was also a growing part of Rose's world, and she started asking for Morgan to play with her, in preference to Lilith, who was a dutiful mother but not the best at playing pretend or making airplanes.

It was nice, seeing them together.

He could get used to this feeling. It felt like...family.

They exchanged a glance as she went by. Did she feel it, too?

Her lingering smile as she met his eyes told him she must.

He found himself following her downstairs. "Morgan, I've been thinking about how great it has been, you being here, and..."

...so of course Lilith had to be right there, too.

"..my offer still stands," he continued.

Luckily Rose went scampering off past them, undoubtedly bent on mayhem, and Lilith followed.

"Morgan," he started, but she broke in: "I think you better hold that thought, til you're feeling better," she said.

What did she mean, feeling better?

"I can tell now, when vampires are thirsty, and you're thirsty, Caleb."

"I have kept myself supplied with blood bags..." he protested.

"Then maybe they aren't cutting it, for you," she countered. "I saw the look on your face when I cut myself, okay? As long as it's not too often, the least I can do for you giving me room and board, is..."

She offered her wrist.

Oh, how he wanted to, but oh, how he shouldn't.

"Go on, don't be shy," she urged, waiting.

Temptation won. It was like biting into a sweet, plush apple, her skin was so fragrant, and her nectar so delicious. A mixture of pleasure and relief coursed through him. Must stop...

She pushed him away suddenly. He meant to stop before she had to do that.

"All better?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, "but...Morgan..." surprisingly, he DID feel much better, and clear-headed, now. "You said it was payment for room and board. You know you don't have to...pay..."

Her eyes lowered as her cheeks turned pink.

"You could be...a Vatore." Now he cast his eyes down, suddenly afraid of meeting hers.

The silence stretched out.

"I would like that..." she whispered, brushing a tear quickly away, "...but I can't...accept."

She broke away and ran upstairs.

She said she would like that! But she couldn't accept. Why?!

Was it Gaston? Did she love him, after all?

Lilith appeared as if from nowhere, Rose on her hip. Perfect timing, as usual. Was she psychic?!

"Unka sad?" asked little Rose in her baby voice.

At that, he couldn't stifle a sob.

Lilith must have been psychic, because she heard his silent plea and sped off with Rose.

When he recovered himself, Caleb had a plan. Send Lilith to see Gaston. Then get everyone together at once, and put the cards on the table.


	20. Night School

It was a warm night, and Morgan turned over again in bed. Now that there was no crisis, the dust was settling and she could see the bare outlines of her life more clearly. And it was empty. Gaston was apparently settled in with his brother, getting clean and perhaps figuring out what he was going to do next. Last she knew he had worked in a startup but lost that when he was arrested. But now he had a clean start. Would he get a different job? Go to college? Train for something else?

College...she hadn't thought about it since her life blew up, but when she and her father were still speaking, he was urging her to apply. Said she needed a direction in life, and threatened to set her up with an office job like Siobhan's if she didn't figure out another plan. Only he considered it an offer, rather than a threat.

Caleb was still serious about her marrying him...she understood his reasons, and they were certainly noble, but she couldn't imagine marrying for convenience or because he felt somehow like he had to protect her or something. She glanced at the ring still on her finger. Why hadn't she given it back yet? Wasn't it customary when you say no, to give back the ring? But then, it wasn't an engagement ring...she hadn't said yes in the first place. It was supposed to protect her somehow. From something. Evil vampires? They hadn't exactly been coming out of the woodwork.

Caleb did have his romantic notions. Would it hurt his feelings more, if she gave it back, or would it lead him on, not to? And what if it really were protecting her somehow? She wasn't sure she believed it, but...she felt something, when it went on, and could still feel that special something, wearing it.

Imagine being married to someone like him! She imagined his disapproving look if he caught her eating a drippy burrito over the sink. And then he'd be over the stove, whisking something delicious AND healthy together, making it look effortless, cajoling her to try "real" food, and probably setting the table with candles! 

Though she didn't share his joy in long evenings over a chess table discussing literature, he also had a dazzling side, at least on the dancefloor. And maybe in the...! But she wasn't going to think about maybes. Besides, Lilith was like the most thorough chaperone ever. If it weren't for occasionally needing to tend Rose (when Morgan or Caleb weren't on duty), they could hardly get a private moment together, before Lilith was there inserting herself into the conversation. She supposed he had been able to have a relationship with Gaston, only because it mostly happened at Gaston's apartment, where Lilith wasn't.

Her heart felt heavy at the thought of Gaston. She had caused so much pain by her impulsive nature. No, she wasn't going to fall in love or give in to temptation, again. It seemed like her grandfather was always right. Maybe there WAS a curse on them, when it came to love, as he always believed. Even her mother and father, who had seemed to love one another so intensely, also seemed barely able to hold it together. She wondered if they would have been divorced by now, if she had lived...

She turned over again, feeling smothered by bedding. Sleep wasn't going to happen. Her legs felt as restless as her thoughts. College seemed the logical next step in life. She didn't feel the same zeal toward it that other people did, but she'd heard Britechester was a bit of a party school. That would be some comfort. It would be daylight soon. Why not go see the school? Nobody would be there, but that was the best time to sneak around exploring. She threw on her clothes and grabbed her headphones. The brochure said the library was always open.

Sure enough, the door opened. She marveled at the massive bookcases and old stonework.

Someone sat at one of the computers. So she wasn't alone after all!

She sat at another computer and started to research writing.

She felt someone behind her.

"Hey, aren't you in one of my classes?"

The nice-looking guy had come over.

"No, sorry, I'm not actually enrolled yet," explained Morgan.

"My mistake," he said, "So are you waiting for someone?"

Was he checking her out?

"No, just wanted to come see it when it was quiet."

He sat down. "Well, I know this place pretty well, if you want a tour..."

Was he flirting? She giggled. Well, it wasn't like she was taken... But the ring on her finger gave her a funny feeling. She hadn't said yes, though! It was a token!

 _Caleb!_ She couldn't help thinking of him suddenly.

He caught her glancing at it.

"Nice ring you got there," he remarked, fixing her with a steady gaze.

She blushed. "Uh, thanks...it was from...a friend." Why was she feeling like this? As if she'd been caught having naughty thoughts?

He rose, and somehow she rose to meet him. Her hand was in his and it felt...good...

"And would this 'friend' mind, if I told you a secret?" he asked, smoothly. His touch was electrifying, yet relaxing...

_"I'm not really a student,"_ he whispered, drawing her closer.

 _Of course not,_ she realized dreamily.

"And you are going to be...mine..."

_Yes...._ she thought, feeling deliciously weak as his arms encircled her.

His eyes held her with a burning intensity as his embrace pulled her in further. Her head was hazy...

"Mesmeratu..." she heard his silken voice murmur...then everything went blissfully blank.

* * *

Caleb rose from the peace of his coffin with a start, his book tumbling to the floor. What was it?! He heard something... but no, the house was silent.

Still, couldn't hurt to check everything.

All was still and dark. It would be dawn soon.

Maybe Rose had a nightmare? He went to her room silently to check. She was sleeping peacefully.

But Morgan's blankets hung rumpled to the floor, her bed empty. Maybe she was hungry. He sped down to the kitchen. Everything was dark. He listened. Nothing.

Lilith was still not home from Gordon and Gaston's place.

He sped through the house. No Morgan. But a note taped to the door read, "Went to check out the college, back soon -Morgan"

He breathed a sigh of relief. But wait, everything would be closed at this hour. Why would she go there alone, when it was empty?

Unless she wasn't alone. But who would be up at this hour, aside from vampires? He laughed inwardly. Then suddenly it wasn't funny.

The blur outlasted his outline.

* * *


	21. "I am Vatore."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Caleb stakes his claim.

In the grey light of predawn, Caleb arrived at the silent campus of Britechester. The library was the only thing open.

So many bookcases!

No one in that room. How about-

-THERE! He hissed between his teeth.

"GET OFF HER!" he roared, reaching to rip him away, but checked himself in time. It could rip her throat open.

The vampire wiped his mouth and licked his lips with obscene pleasure. "Aside from interrupting an _exquisite_ meal, you are...?"

How much had he had of her? She slumped gently to the floor. Alive.

"About to kill you for touching what is mine," Caleb said in a dangerously soft voice.

The stranger looked amused. "Yours, you say? I was here first, and she was fair game. But if you apologize, I'll save you sloppy seconds!"

All emotion drained from Caleb.

"I will kill you."

They fell backward together into a desk, everything crashing, then struggled into the doorway.

Caleb's punch impacted with terrific force as a fist in his gut doubled him over, all before the blood could hit the floor.

"Duel!" cried the other vampire between blows to his head "DUEL!"

Caleb's senses penetrated his body.

He forced himself to stop the furious assault.

Very well. A duel.

They straightened up, watching each other.

Outside, then.

"I yield!" panted the other as he dangled, about to be dropped. "I SUBMIT!"

Caleb dropped him but from a lower height, wrestling to contain the lust to kill him anyway.

"Whose life do I spare?" asked Caleb.

"Talon." he stayed down while Caleb looked at him. "Talon Rich. May I know your name, sir?"

"I am Vatore."

It was the first time Caleb realized, he **was** Head of Clan, whether Lilith liked it or not.


	22. Blood ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Morgan requires a transfusion, and Caleb shocks Lilith

The sky was lightening, and staff and students would soon be milling about. Caleb returned to where Morgan still lay unconscious, scooped her up, and returned to Wolfsbane Manor at vampiric speed.

* * *

He laid her on the upstairs guest bed. She looked pale, and didn't wake.

"Am I interrupting?" Lilith was at the door.

He told her what had happened.

Lilith whistled. "You're in deep, now. I hope she was worth it," then frowned. "Talon Rich...I don't think I've heard the name. New to the area, perhaps?"

One had to wonder, as the name Vatore had not elicited a reaction. Though they were only two, the Vatores were well known in the vampire community. Lilith had been the reason, but that was going to change.

Morgan stirred slightly, then lay still. "Shhhh...you're safe," Caleb spoke softly, touching her arm, "She's really drained. Do you have anything for that?"

Lilith looked her over. "I have some herbal preparations that might be helpful, but she may need something more." She glanced meaningfully at Caleb.

"Are you sure it's okay?" He thought with a pang, about Gaston, and whether their passion had been...induced.

She smiled. "Well, she could just suffer anemia and low blood pressure and need bedrest for weeks; it wasn't far from a kill. Your call. I'll go prepare nettle, ginseng, and dandelion, but she has to be conscious before she can drink it." And she was off.

Caleb smiled. Sometimes it seemed his sister had missed a calling as an herbalist. Morgan was pale, and her heart rate was elevated. Anger flared in him again, at Talon. Would he have killed her, if Caleb had arrived only minutes later? For better or for worse, he had to help her.

He cradled her head in one arm, and bit his wrist. Held the welling wound over her open mouth, suddenly nervous. What if she choked? But she swallowed some, eyelids fluttering, and lay back again. She shifted but didn't wake. If she agreed to marry him now, would it just be because of...this? He didn't want his love returned for the wrong reasons.

Love. His stomach dropped. When had that happened? He couldn't recall a single, clarifying moment. But his rage at Talon was not sheerly the principled objection to the assault on a friend. Those moments when it felt like they were a family, if only no one broke the spell...he never knew that particular want, before. And now he wanted it so much, it hurt. Life at Wolfsbane Manor had felt so full lately, he couldn't go back to the emptiness there would be, without her. She had said she wasn't ready...wasn't that a "not yet"? She still wore his ring. Did it mean anything to her? 

Morgan was such a mass of contradictions. She was part club kid, part woman, and it didn't even seem like she knew her own mind. She'd been through some things that grow a person up...he didn't want to think about that. And what about Gaston? Was that truly a one-time fluke? And...what _about_ Gaston...? Why did this feel so different from anything he'd felt, before? Love was supposed to be light, easy, pleasurable. Not agonizing, fearful, heavy.

"Something to build the blood and strengthen the...heart." Lilith appeared in the doorway, noticed Caleb's far-off gaze, and set two steaming cups down on the bedside table.

He felt x-rayed under her perceptive gaze.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

He couldn't meet her eyes. "Do we have to talk about it?"

"Caleb, mortals don't keep. You have to act in the living present."

He smiled at her literary reference. "It's never felt like this before. I feel like something heavy is on my chest."

"So that's a yes. What are you going to do about it?" Lilith asked.

Caleb swallowed.:"I...need to protect her. Which means she needs to...say yes."

"And what if Morgan still isn't ready for marriage?" asked Lilith. 

He heard Morgan's breathing change for a moment, her heartbeat normalizing.

"Then I will take her before Vlad, and register her officially as household chattel."

Lilith's eyebrows raised. "You mean Claim her? As prey? And what if she doesn't agree to _that?"  
_

Caleb set his face. "It does not require consent."

Lilith's eyebrows raised even higher than before.


	23. Raptor's nest  NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Morgan flies the coop only to be spotted by a hawk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive scene, implied drug coercion, M/F partial nudity (no frontal), NSFW

Morgan realized where she was. It was dusk, and she was in the upstairs guest room at Wolfsbane Manor. Had she had a nightmare? She felt odd and a bit floating.

What had happened? Oh yes, she remembered: she couldn't sleep, and went to check out the university, and there was someone else at the computers...a very handsome guy. She remembered the playful banter...had they kissed? Or did she dream that? Her cheeks flushed. If it had been a dream, it was one heck of a kiss anyway!

But wait! Something else! She sat up. She had been half-asleep, when she heard Caleb talking to Lilith, and she had heard her name. Lilith asking what would happen if she didn't...marry...Caleb...and he had said...!

Surely that was a nightmare. Caleb would never say such a thing. Would he?

Lilith appeared suddenly. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh...fine, I guess," Morgan mumbled vaguely, uncomfortably self-conscious.

"How about some tea in the kitchen," she offered, and buzzed to the kitchen.

_Act natural,_ Morgan thought to herself.

Then Caleb got in front of her. "You shouldn't be up yet. You've had a shock. After that Talon..." his face darkened.

"Who's Talon?" she asked.

"You know, the guy who..at the library..." he trailed off, searching her face.

_Oh yes, Mister Hottie._ She remembered, all right! "Wait, you were at the library? Why? Did you _follow_ me?!"

He had the oddest expression. "I was just...looking out for you...you're sure you don't remember _anything?_ "

Lilith seemed oddly tense as she brought steaming cups to the table.

"Okay, so what's going on?" Morgan asked. "You're both acting weird..."

Caleb drained his cup,

...then gazed softly at her in a way that made her look away.

"Morgan, I know you've been through enough, and this isn't the best time or the best way, but I have something important to ask you."

Lilith nodded encouragingly as Caleb swallowed, appearing to steel himself.

Oh no, this was it! So it wasn't a dream after all, he was going to ask and if she said no...! Think of something!

He rose, and exchanged glances with Lilith.

She jumped up from the table. "Can it wait?"

He seemed shocked. "Why? What's the matter now?"

She stammered as he stared at her in obvious disbelief.

"I... have to... do something. In fact I'm running late! See you later! BYE!"

Heart pounding and trying to act natural, she made it to the door, heaving a sigh of relief that no one had stopped her.

She didn't know where she was headed, but she knew she had to think. It was dark. Maybe the library again?

She passed the park with the chess tables, watching her feet, when she bumped into someone. She gave an involuntary little yelp as strong hands grabbed her.

"Easy, there!" said a male voice. She looked up. It was Mister Hottie from the library! "Oh thank God it's you!" she cried, near tears.

He was searching her eyes very intently. "Who else would I be?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing...I...thought... I was being followed..."

"I've got you," he said.

She looked around. "Could we go somewhere else... to talk?"

"Of course we can!" he said. "We never exchanged names. I'm Talon..."

"Oh, I'm Morgan. Morgan Fyres."

"I just moved here, want to come in?" he took her arm in his, and they walked over to the small house nearby. "I haven't even unpacked, so pardon the dust." The door creaked as he opened it.

He wasn't kidding: the inside was sparse yet dusty. He brought drinks from the kitchen.

She hesitated. "You're so nice, and I barely know you, but..." she took a sip of her drink. It was very good, fizzy, sweet, and spicy. Gave her a warm feeling on the way down. She drank the rest of it, feeling much better.

"So..." he said, sitting down, "what's going on?"

He patted the spot next to him. "It's okay. You can trust me."

He was looking deeply into her eyes, and suddenly she knew she could trust him.

"Could I stay here tonight?" she blurted.

"Sounds serious! Boyfriend troubles?" He shot a glance at Caleb's ring.

And then she didn't know how or why, but she felt like they were old friends, and her words poured forth in a stream.

"Well, actually, he's not exactly my boyfriend, but I let him drink sometimes, and he's a vampire and... he asked me to marry him, and I wasn't ready to answer that, I mean I care for him, maybe more than as a friend, but marriage is such a big deal and how can he even think of that when I'm barely out of high school and..." she giggled, not sure why that was so funny, but there was more, "and so I was thinking about it but when I was asleep I heard him telling his sister that if I didn't marry him, he'd take me to Vlad and declare me household cattle. I mean, chapel. Chattel!" and she dissolved into helpless giggles. "So I had to..." more giggles..."get outta there!" Everything was so funny! His face was funny! She burst out laughing again, clutching her sides, half-sliding off the couch.

But Talon was very reassuring. "Don't worry, you did the right thing," he said, stroking her cheek. "We'll go report him."

"To the police?" she asked his blurry outlined face.

"No," he said, "Vlad's the local authority, for vampires, so we'll go see him together."

"Ohhhhhh...." she said, lolling against his arm that was around the back of her. "Riiiighhht...."

"Meanwhile, you can stay here with me," he murmured, nuzzling in her hair. "You're safe."

"MMMMmmmm!" she agreed, so relaxed she could slide off the sofa if he weren't holding onto her instead.

"Why don't I take you upstairs where you can lie down?" he suggested, and suddenly her legs felt weak and rubbery.

"MMMMhhhmmmm!" she approved. He was carrying her. How nice of him!

"Here we are....you'll be more comfortable here, I promise!" he soothed, carrying her to the bedroom.

And then she was naked, but couldn't remember undressing. He was pressing himself into her, kissing her passionately.

"Morgan..." he whispered.

"Yessssss!" she breathed into his neck.

"I want you to remember this!" he moaned into her throat as he sank his fangs in.

"Yessssss...!"

"Say my name!"

"Talonnnnn........!" and then she couldn't say anything anymore.


	24. He Who Hesitates...(NSFW)

As Morgan walked out the front door, Caleb felt a sort of paralysis come over him. He had to stop her, but he couldn't bring himself to accost her, maybe even scare her.

So she walked out the door, into the night, and it closed behind her. Her footsteps grew fainter.

Lilith was looking at him.

"Forgotten Hollow is virtually empty. Nothing's going to happen to her just because she went for a walk." Was he telling himself, or Lilith?

She said nothing.

"Do you think I'm being paranoid?" he asked, half-hoping she'd say yes.

Was that a dog he heard yip, outside?

"You're only paranoid if no one's after you," she answered.

"I don't want to spook her any more than I already have."

She appraised him in her too-perceptive way. "I think the big problem is she hasn't decided what she really wants."

"The last time I brought it up, she told me she would like that, but that she couldn't accept. What does that mean?"

She looked exasperated. "Why can't you just ask her yourself? And how much more time do you plan to lose, dithering?"

"So just run her down and demand an answer? That sounds like a great plan."

"He who hesitates is lost," she shrugged.

That had many meanings. Was it that he hesitated because his way forward was uncertain? Or was it that the longer he waited, the more certain his defeat?

In the end, it hardly mattered which it was, both spelled disaster.

He hated how often Lilith was right no matter the interpretation.

* * *

Caleb cast about for Morgan's scent on the evening breeze.

__

To the chess tables. She had at least passed this way but it was already very faint. _Where would she have headed? The library, maybe?_

__

His ears pricked. The faintest sound of voices...there!

He caught scent of Morgan...and Talon! Kicking the door in would alert Talon, so he had to do this quietly. No matter, vampiric entry should -nothing! Talon had apparently taken countermeasures. But Caleb had been studying. No time for Dark Meditation now, just have to relax and focus...

And try again with everything he had...

It opened!

He was upstairs in a flash, this door wasn't sealed, it opened easily-

His blood froze.

Then boiled.

Talon was on his feet dressing in a blur in the same instant Caleb's eyes and his locked in mutual hatred.

  
"Your interruptions are becoming an annoyance, Vatore!"

But as Caleb took a step, Talon's hand set with delicate and deadly precision on her trachea. "Make a move and she dies."

Caleb stood rigid as an ice sculpture. "We settled this, when I _spared your life."_

Talon smirked. "Yeah? Well something must have gone wrong on your end, because she came to me, running from YOU!"

He saw the stunned look on Caleb's face and pressed his advantage: "You had her running scared, she told me everything, about how you were going to force her to marry you or else take her to Vlad as claimed baggage! She wanted _me_ to protect her, from _you!"_

Caleb felt like he'd been punched hard in the gut. Nauseated. Faint.

Talon noticed, and grinned, emboldened: "And you should have heard her, she was _screaming out my name,_ when I-"

Caleb had no idea he could move that fast, but one hand was between Morgan's throat and Talon's hand, and his other was yanking Talon's head back so far it would have snapped a human neck.. Then they were locked together in deadly, determined silence, appearing to jump from one fixed position to another, as if caught in a slow-pulsing strobe.

Morgan regained full consciousness, then screamed.

"STOP! You'll hurt him!"

Caleb and Talon both froze for an instant.

"No, I'll _KILL_ him," growled Caleb.

"NO PLEASE, he was just helping me! I'll go with you, just let him go!" she cried, shimmying into her clothing. Her cheeks were scarlet.

This was more than Caleb could take. "HE WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU!"

It was enough distraction for Talon to get free, and now there was a wary distance between them.

  
"You're wrong, Vatore. And she wants me, not you." said Talon.

Caleb quailed for a moment. He searched her eyes, saw only fear and confusion. Her pupils were dilated.

"You _drugged_ her?!" accused Caleb. Suddenly he no longer wanted to kill Talon. He wanted to make him suffer, first. "Morgan, I'm taking you home now. Let's go."

"Actually, we're going to see Vlad, aren't we, Morgan?" cut in Talon.

"So you can claim her as prey?" spat Caleb.

"You mean before you do?" Talon countered.

  
Horribly, she appeared not to know whether to trust Talon, or Caleb.

"Why don't we all go?" she suggested shakily. "Isn't he the vampire...judge, or something?"

Caleb hadn't considered that, but maybe Vlad would see that Talon must face consequences. And Caleb had been ready to take her there if necessary, to make an official claim in any case...

  
Talon and Caleb locked eyes. "Let's go!" Talon said, hauling Morgan up by an arm, but Caleb as quickly took the other.

"Yes, let's!" answered Caleb.


	25. Love and Service

They arrived at the gates of Straud Mansion and couldn't help but pause before its intimidating facade. Morgan felt like a mouse approaching a trap.

She glanced at Caleb, afraid.

"Please believe this, Morgan: I would never force myself on you. If you can't return my love, my plan to claim you officially was the only way to protect you from those who would." He glanced at Talon with unconcealed loathing.

His love...? Why was her mouth dry suddenly, and her heart racing, her stomach seeming to rise as if she were falling? She was painfully aware of his nearness, and felt transparent, exposed, nerves tingling.

Caleb knocked on the imposing front doors.

They were greeted by a pale manservant who guided them inside and went to announce them.

"The Count will see you now." He led them upstairs to a comfortable sitting area overlooking the main hall.

Vladislav Straud appeared and welcomed them graciously, shaking Caleb's hand. "Caleb Vatore, what an unexpected pleasure. It has been too long." Then turning to Talon, "and you have brought...a..newcomer, I see?" 

  
Talon shook the extended hand and introduced himself. "Talon Rich. I just joined a law firm in the city, but I'm looking to settle here, in Forgotten Hollow." 

Morgan caught her breath. He had said he had moved into that house.

She felt Vlad's gaze penetrating her and a fresh wave of fear made her giddy.

Caleb tensed as he made introductions. "Vladislav Straud, Morgan Fyres of Windendburg".

"Enchanted." said Vlad, bringing her hand to his lips, lingering over it, inhaling. Then his face hardened, and his eyes flicked to Talon. "The lady is...fatigued. Edvard, please show her to the guest room and make her comfortable."

As the butler led Morgan away, Vlad gestured Caleb and Talon to the bar.

"This way, if you please, Miss Fyres."

He led her to a comfortably appointed bedroom in a purple theme, and returned with a luxurious silk nightgown and peignoir. He held the door open to the adjacent ensuite.

Her eyes widened, but he smiled slightly. "I am sorry a maidservant is not available, but you may be assured that I am at your disposal. Your privacy and person are secure from any improper thought or gaze in my presence, as my interests lie...elsewhere."

She took the garments and changed in the bathroom. When she emerged, he was still waiting politely.

"The bed is warmed and turned down, Miss. May I bring you refreshment from the kitchen or the bar?"

"Uh, no thanks. I think I just need to lie down..."

"Of course, Miss."

He bowed courteously on his way out, noting the fang marks and her exhaustion. He would lay odds he knew which of the visitors had been reckless in his drinking habits, poor girl.

The bed was as sumptuous as the gown, and she was asleep as soon as her face touched the silken pillow.

* * *

"How is she?" asked Vlad upon Edvard's return. "Asleep, sir, in the guest bedroom."

"Very good. Gentlemen?" he gestured them to the bar adjacent, and Edvard moved into position to tend bar. Vlad touched his arm, and they shared a look. "Thank you, Edvard, but I rarely get the chance to pour for guests."

"Of course, sir," murmured Edvard, bowing to hide faintly flushed cheeks, then disappearing quietly as Vlad's gaze continued to follow him.

Caleb had wondered if what he glimpsed beneath Edvard's consummate professionalism, ran in both directions.

Vlad's eyes shone softly. "It was a well-favored day, when I found such a one as Edvard, available for hire!"

Caleb couldn't help smiling a little. 

"Gentlemen, what's your pleasure?" asked Vlad, once Caleb and Talon were seated at the bar.

Hospitality fulfilled, Vlad cleared his throat. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight?"

Caleb and Talon both began speaking at once.

Vlad silenced them. "I presume this involves the young lady?"  
Caleb nodded, once.  
"What about her, requires my attention?"  
Talon spoke first, "I was feeding from her at the Britechester library, when HE showed up and interfered-!"

Caleb's face flushed. "He took for fair game what was NOT!" 

Talon was dismissive. "You had no claim!" 

"She wore my ring, that's claim enough! The duel ought to have settled it, yet you still pursued her!"

  
"I did no such thing. She came to me, seeking asylum." Talon was smug. "She was afraid of you!"

Caleb knew, miserably, and couldn't say anything.

:"Enough!" Vlad broke in. "Asylum does not apply to prey OR chattel, Rich, as you would know if you had ever paid attention to vampiric law. You may wish to educate yourself if you expect to survive long in our world."

He turned to Caleb: "We need to determine her status at the time then, since you claim she was not fair game, Vatore. Then we'll address the matter of the duel. Simply put, who is she?"

Caleb cleared his throat and straightened his coat. "She's the daughter of Dominic Fyres and his late wife Moira Fyres (née Fay), of Windenburg. She came to live with us at Wolfsbane Manor some time ago, and she is..." with difficulty he pushed past a lump in his throat,

"my intended. I await her answer." And at this Caleb had to stop.

"Ah..." Vlad's eyes softened. " 'Love hath reason, reason none...' "  
" 'If what parts can so remain'. " completed Caleb. "I see we admire the same poet."

  
Talon's eyes narrowed. "So we've all read Shakespeare! What has one to do with the other?"  
Vlad glanced at him coldly. "Knowledge without wisdom, is a load of books on the back of an ass."

Talon seethed as Caleb struggled to control his face.

Vlad continued, "Very well. A personal relationship exists between Miss Fyres and Caleb Vatore predating this conflict. Even had it been a mere hunting dispute, a duel in Vatore's favor ought to have settled the matter. As the loser, you were obliged to give way, Talon, or suffer the consequences. Having _congress_ with her in addition to feeding," --Talon's eyes widened slightly, and Caleb's jaw clenched-- "was foolhardy in the extreme. Oh yes, I knew that little detail the moment you arrived, no need to act shocked. You are fortunate to be too young to know firsthand the fate that would have awaited you for such overstepping, just a couple of centuries ago. Even today, Vatore could have been pardoned, had he drained you, rent you to pieces, and burnt them to warm his feet...at least in _my_ domain."

Talon's face was wooden as he drained his drink and slammed it on the bar. Vlad refilled it, unperturbed.

He continued, "The outcome of a duel has to be respected, or vampiric duels cease to hold any value for settling disputes, in which case all petty complaints would come directly to my door, unless they were first solved by lethal violence, and vampiric civilization as we know it gets set back three hundred years. I assure you, they were not good years."

He offered a refill to Caleb, who declined with a wave.

"You are both young enough not to have seen firsthand the horrors of anarchy played out among our kind. In fact, a desire to escape oppression and the violence it caused, factored largely in the decision to settle here, in the New World. Forgotten Hollow was founded in the hopes we could be...forgotten, by those who opposed our desire for the most fundamental of freedoms. But we were hunted down, anyway..."

Caleb coughed to bring Vlad back to the present. 

  
"Yes, well...where were we? Ah yes...Talon Rich, you must face consequences for your actions in disregarding the outcome of the duel at the very least. Miss Fyres' status must be determined by her answer, since the spouse or fiancee of one vampire, is ineligible for vampiric claim by any other. Therefore, she will remain here under my protection until such time as she gives her answer. Rich, since you have burdened me personally with her care by your recklessness, your sentence shall be to remove that burden by attending her yourself, _pro bono."_

__

Talon's eyes flickered.

But Vlad continued. "You understand that no aggression toward her, whether prurient or sanguine, will be permitted, on pain of _severe_ consequences? She will become _de facto_ property of this household, under my protection, until this matter is resolved. Come with me upstairs, and we'll draw up the paperwork."

He gathered a dossier of documents from the writing desk and had them each review and sign. "Just a formality, yet prudent to have on hand in case the unfortunate need arises, to execute anyone. It hasn't been necessary in recent memory, of course."

"But what about my job at the law firm?" Talon asked.

"You will have to arrange a leave of absence or else resign, unless you can arrange your hours so as not to conflict with service here."

Caleb seemed even more pale than usual. "While Morgan is staying here, will I be able to...visit her?"

Vlad "That won't be necessary if you will accept my hospitality instead. Do you prefer beds or coffins?"

"A bed will do nicely, thank you," answered Caleb. _Time with Morgan, without Lilith!_

"Edvard, please go and prepare the suite for Master Vatore."

"Of course, sir!"

"And what about me?" asked Talon.

"Choose whichever guest coffin suits you in the crypt." answered Vlad without turning.


	26. Choke, clutch, throttle.

The next day, Caleb was loathe to leave Morgan in the same house with Talon, but had to trust that with Vlad around, Talon wouldn't dare make a move. Morgan had recovered enough energy to be up and about, but it would be a while before she'd recover from the blood loss inflicted by Talon, enough to be her usual perky self. She was also not happy about Vlad's solution, and having to stay at Straud Mansion.

He knocked on her bedroom door. "Morgan, mind if I have a word?"

"Caleb, is that you? Come in!"

She looked breathtaking in a dark green flowing nightgown that Vlad must have supplied. He tried to keep his eyes on her face. She was still pale, and seemed worried.

"Mind if we talk?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, patting the bed beside her, "what's up?"

He sat. "I have to get to work today, but I wanted to talk with you before I left. You know you can trust me, right?"

"Oh, Caleb...you explained when we got here, and I believe you now. You were right that some vampires...aren't so nice. You and Gaston were the only ones I knew, before. I'm having a hard time with what may have happened...when I was...drugged..." her eyes were filling.

He wanted to kiss those tears away but kept himself under control. "Morgan, whatever happened, it wasn't your fault, and it's never going to happen again if I can help it. I hope you know I'll always be your friend."

"Best friends?" she said, smiling through tears.

"Best friends!" he assured her, taking her hand. "You need to be eating well to recover fully. Can I fix you an omelette before I head out?"

"Sorry, Caleb, but I can't eat right now..."

"How 'bout if I bring you something home from work then?" tempted Caleb. "Anything you want, just name it!"

"Anything?" Morgan smiled impishly. "Even if I want...chicken nuggets?"

Caleb groaned, laughing. "If you insist on chicken nuggets, I will make you such chicken nuggets as to ruin your palate for those manufactured bites of plastic you're used to!"

Then they were gazing deeply into each other's eyes. He felt her breath, warm and soft, on his face.

"Anything you give me would be the best I ever had..." she murmured in his ear.

Uh....! His brain skipped a track as he felt himself responding to her bodily, so suddenly it was agonizing. 

They were leaning in very close...

Talon burst through the door. "Excuse my interruption, but then you _like_ interruptions, right Vatore? Were you in the middle of "prurient and sanguine" interests? Don't let me stop you!" he laughed brashly. Morgan was sitting stiffly apart from him now, blushing furiously. Curse Talon!

"What do you want, Rich?" demanded Caleb flatly.

Talon looked innocent. "You know I have a duty to fulfill, _attending_ her. Personally and pro _BONO,_ remember? So Morgan, what needs of yours are going unmet, that I can...service?" He flourished an elaborate bow, enjoying embarrassing her.

"Go fuck yourself, you're the only one who wants to," she replied.

Wow! Caleb hadn't known she had it in her!

But instead of being upset, Talon looked amused. " _You_ sure wanted to! Remember, how hard you liked it--kkhhhhgh!" a hand was crushing his larynx, slowly.

"Say one more word..." Caleb breathed in a dark whisper, "...please...!"

Morgan jumped to her feet, getting as far away as she could while Caleb continued choking Talon.

Then he realized that Morgan was looking glassy-eyed...

Talon fell gagging, as Caleb caught Morgan mid-faint, and laid her in bed.

"You're gonna pay for that!" Talon rasped, rubbing his throat as he left.

How could he go to go to work, now? He'd quit. Jobs could be replaced.

"Master Vatore, if I may...?" Edvard entered the room. "I can help to look after Miss Fyres during your necessary absence..."

Vowing to do something nice for Edvard at first opportunity, Caleb felt a weight lifted. "I would be in your debt, Edvard. Thank you."


	27. Hand In Glove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaslighting is more than Victorian illumination. Edvard's role expands.

Later on that day, Morgan awoke to find Edvard dusting the writing desk in her room.

"May I bring you something for breakfast?" he inquired politely on finding her awake.

"No, thank you, Edvard, I'll get something for myself when I go downstairs."

"You'll find your clothes clean and ready for you in the the bathroom, then, Miss Fyres."

He really was a sweetheart! "Thank you! You didn't have to do that!"

"It was better than letting the Count select something he deemed appropriate, I think..." a hint of a mischievous smile played at the corner of Edvard's mouth.

She had to laugh, imagining something way past vintage, probably in ghastly purple lace from throat to ankles. "You're probably right!"

After freshening up and changing, she was heading out of the room when Talon walked in like he owned the place.

"Ah, Morgan. I see you have TWO servants at your beck and call, today. Must be nice!"

"Hardly," she said, and moved to leave.

He got in her way. "Actually, I wanted to speak with you. Privately" he added, glancing at Edvard.

Edvard continued cleaning. "Miss Fyres' is welcome to ask me to leave, if she chooses."

Talon glowered, but spoke to Morgan. "Fine, if you don't mind him hearing what I have to say. First of all, I'm sorry that you've been manipulated into a situation where you feel like you have to marry Caleb. He's charming you, trying make me the enemy."

Her eyes narrowed. "You drugged me!"

"That's what HE said! He's trying to scare you about me, so you'll say yes and then truly belong to him, don't you see that? All I did was offer you a drink when you seemed like you needed one. It may have been a bit strong, but that's why I carried you upstairs...remember?"

Her certainty was faltering.

"Come on, Morgan...was every party you've ever been to, a crime scene, then? We were loosened up, is all...and you led me to believe you meant it when you said you wanted me..."

She didn't know what to say.

He seemed angry, suddenly. "I hope you're happy, because now I'm going to lose my job because of all this! All for the mistake of falling for you!"

The desk was rattling as Edvard scrubbed it harder than it had likely ever been scrubbed.

Talon was searching her face. "You don't remember? It was the best night of my life, and from what I could tell, of yours too...you don't remember how you called out my name?"

To her horror, a fragmented memory came into focus, one she didn't want to see, but saw anyway: her arms around his neck, legs locked around him in the heat of passion, and her own voice...calling out his name...! _Oh God, then it was true!_ She had led him on, and now he was paying for it with his job, his freedom! _Oh my God, what am I?!_ She remembered her night with Gaston, and how that had ruined all their lives...

But wait. One thing didn't make sense. She was very weak still, and the marks were on her neck.

"Why did you nearly drain me, then?" she asked, voice quavering.

He ran a hand through his hair before answering. "I got carried away, all right? I'm sorry. I haven't been a vampire more than a couple of years, and I'm still clumsy at the self-control, with drinking. But you offered your neck, and I couldn't resist."

"I don't remember that..." she whispered.

"I'm not surprised...you pretty much gulped that whole drink in one shot and it went right to your head."

She did indeed remember that part. _Oh god, he was telling the truth..._

"Morgan, there's something about you that makes me lose my head...you're special. But it was an accident, and I've learned. Can you forgive me?" His eyes were pleading. "Don't let Caleb do this. Have you seen how he acts when he's close to you? It's your blood he's after. But you can get us all out of this. Just tell Vlad your answer is no, and we all walk out of here, no harm done. If you don't want me, fine...I can let it go if you can. I just want my life back. I can move on, if you let me. You owe me that much."

"I need some air," she said, suddenly queasy. She pushed by him out the door.

"And just what are you looking at?" demanded Talon of Edvard, who appeared determined to wear off the lacquer of the desk, scrubbing so hard in one place.

"Decorum prohibits my naming it," returned Edvard, "but know this: I know what you're doing."

"Just you watch your mouth," warned Talon, "If you know what's healthy for you. I'm getting thirsty."

"You will not find me easily intimidated, even by your thinly-veiled vampiric threats," returned Edvard smoothly, "and you fail to perceive the danger you place yourself in thereby."

"We'll see who's in danger!" snarled Talon on his way out the door.

* * *

Vlad took note of Talon's foul mood when he passed by and mixed himself yet another drink. Nothing to be said for upbringing; the swine didn't even ask first.

But Vlad made no objection, and slipped upstairs to see what Edvard knew.

He heard Edvard's report as to Talon's strategy regarding Morgan.

"So he used words alone, to undermine her confidence. Very clever, to avoid using vampiric powers which I would have detected. Please keep me appraised."

Edvard was gazing long and hard into Vlad's eyes.

"Was there something else, Edvard?"

"Yes, sir. I've grown...accustomed to her face, sir. I would loathe any harm came to her."

"You needn't worry on her behalf, my dear Edvard. She enjoys my personal guardianship. But there is something about her I need to discover. I scented many things when I kissed her hand, but puzzling among them is her blood. It carries something extra and I intend to find out what. Whatever it is, it may be the key to why she's in such a peculiar situation. Low-level rogues such as Talon do not normally show such reckless tenacity going after a prey contested by a Master Vampire. He's fortunate that Caleb is exceptionally dedicated to ideals of nonviolence and self-control, or he wouldn't have survived this far."

He touched Edvard's sleeve, lightly.

"Was there...something else, sir?"

Oh, there was indeed. So much else. "I appreciate all you are doing. Being kind to Morgan, being a...companion of sorts, isn't in your usual duties, and I consider it a personal favor. I'm grateful to you."

"It is a pleasure...just as personal...to please you...sir."

Edvard's scent was warm, faintly sweet and earthy, overlaid now with the tang of desire.

Vlad took his gloved hand, squeezed it gently. "When this is over, and we have privacy, I would speak with you candidly."

The hand-squeeze was returned, a rapt look in Edvard's eyes answering Vlad's own intensity.

"I'll be speaking with the girl presently. In the meantime, Edvard..."

"Yes, sir?"

"Please be careful."


	28. The 'Begats'

Vlad found Morgan in the kitchen having tea. "Miss Fyres, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Sure!" she said, swallowing the rest of her cup.

"It appears you have an unusual effect on vampires, and I'd like to know more about your people."

She stared, uncomprehending.

"Your relatives, your ancestry, that sort of thing," he clarified.

"Oh, well...there's not much to tell...my father is Dominic Fyres, and I have an older sister Siobhan, but we fell out after I...made some mistakes..." her voice trailed off.

"Was there anything...unusual...about your father?" Vlad prompted.

She laughed ruefully. "Uh, no. He didn't approve of anything unusual either. Mom used to joke that if Dad were any more square, he'd turn up at the corners!"

"What about your mother?" he asked.

Morgan's smile faded. "Well, she had a great sense of humor, and let me go to the seaside with my granddad, where he'd build driftwood fires and gather seaweed and show me how to go clamming and we'd have a bake and stay out til dark, and he'd tell me all his crazy stories of magical sea creatures and sailor stories. I really miss them both. My mom died a couple of years after he did."

"I'm so sorry...it gets easier with time, child. But if I may, what were their names?"

"Moira Fay, and Granddad's name was Kenneth. Kenneth Fay."

Vlad chuckled. "You're fortunate to have taken your father's name, then. Imagine the burden of going through life called Morgan Fay!"

"I know, right?" laughed Morgan, feeling a lot easier around him now. "But it wasn't originally Fay. The story was, our original ancestor to this continent was an Owen O Fay, but with a weird spelling-"

Vlad's eyes flew wide open. "Did you just say Eoghain O'Fiaich?!" It sounded like Owen, but the last name was halfway between Oh Fee and Oh Fay.

"I'm not sure they're the same, but why?" she asked.

"It may be coincidence, but...come with me upstairs, if you would."

She followed him upstairs...

And upstairs again...

"Oh, was this your dollhouse once?" she asked.

"That belonged to my nephew," he answered. "My sister Yevgyenia died when he was very young, and his father took him to raise."

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling sad at the sight of the long-neglected toy castle. "What happened to him?"

"As I said, his father took him, and they went into hiding. My sister was killed by a political interest in keeping people like her, from marrying people like him."

"Oh..." she said, feeling like she shouldn't ask so many questions, but dying to know anyway. "What do you mean by people like her, and him?"

"Vampires and witches." was all he said.

"Witches!" she repeated in shock. "You mean, broomsticks and cauldrons and...?!"

"Magical spells? Exactly so." He led the way up yet more stairs.

She hadn't known vampires existed until a couple of years ago, so why not witches?

She was getting seriously out of breath with all these stairs, having not yet recovered fully from the loss of blood. Vlad apologized for the difficult climb but promised it was the last one.

They emerged into a small stone room with a cluttered desk and an old bookcase, and little else.

Vlad hunted through the bookcase.

"Ah, here we are," he said, hefting a leather-bound volume. "The notes we're interested in should be here. My brother-in-law and then later, my nephew, kept me informed as to their welfare through occasional correspondence, at least for a while."

"Hmmm..." he thumbed through the old pages, "ah, found the notes, what little there were. Do you know anything else besides the name Eoghain O'Fiaich, child? Assuming they were even the same man....?"

Morgan pondered. "Well, I never paid too much attention when my granddad would go on about names, but I did remember the son of Owen had a weird name...Bertram!" she giggled. "And I remembered HIS son's name, because it was even weirder: Wolfram! I'm sure glad I didn't grow up in those days!"

Vlad turned toward her, his face alight with an expression that almost made him beautiful. "Child," he said softly, "do you know what this means?"

"It means, Morgan...that you are my several-times-removed great-grand-niece!"

"WHAT?!" She couldn't have been more shocked.

"Does this mean I should call you...Uncle?" she faltered, embarrassed.

He smiled. "Vlad will be fine if you prefer. And this may change things. I never had children, so you may indeed be my closest living heir. Part of my household in fact, if you wish to claim your birthright. Retroactively, and in perpetuity."

She looked troubled, so he continued, "Is something wrong, child?"

"Lilith mentioned that they were...related to you somehow...so does this mean Caleb and I are...cousins or something?"

"Ah...!" He rose, book in hand, to face her. "My dear, if you wish to marry Caleb, you are not only free to do so, but you have my blessing should you desire it. He's a good man. My relationship to him is that of grand-progenitor. In other words, he was turned by a vampire, who was turned by me. I wholeheartedly regret turning the one who thenceforth styled herself 'Miss Hell'... but the damage was done, and she attacked and turned young Caleb by force. His sister came to me then, boldly seeking answers, demanding that I turn her, personally. She impressed me with the research she had already done, and her fearless determination to become equal in power and lineage to Miss Hell, so as to protect her brother from further harassment, so I felt it was the least I could do. Lilith is my vampiric offspring, and her brother Caleb, something more like a grand-childe. No consanguinity exists between you."

A smile was playing at the corner of his mouth. "But there is more: As heiress to Straud House, you are not now, nor have you ever been, fair game! No vampire in his or her right mind will molest you, at least in my jurisdiction, once I send out the announcement. I believe a celebration is in order!"


	29. Revelations

Caleb swung by Wolfsbane Manor after work quickly, to pick up some clothes and personal items for Morgan, and fill Lilith in on the situation. She had news of her own: she had been spending a lot of time over at Gaston's, and had developed a relationship with his brother Gordon. A serious one. And she was going to be spending the week at his place, and taking Rose with her, so she didn't want Caleb to worry.

Caleb cringed inwardly. Sunglasses Man! Of course, it had to be! There must be something about the Beaulieu brothers, to her...but he instantly regretted that line of thinking, remembering his relationship with Gaston. He wondered how Gaston was taking the idea of his vampiric master (or mistress, though Lilith reserved that term for other uses) with his rather ruthless older brother. Lilith could make a house feel crowded all on her own...imagine _her_ with _him!_

He had to give it to Gordon: he'd built the perfect place if he wanted to pair up with a vampiress: what looked like a dilapidated trailer in the middle of nowhere, with not just one, but two luxurious underground levels, complete with pool, palm trees, and fitness equipment, all safe from sunlight? Lilith's idea of paradise. And he could admit, grudgingly, that they had a lot in common for personality.

But he had no time to discuss it. He had to get back to Morgan before her artisanal chicken nuggets got cold. He headed out with a bag full of her clothes, makeup, and the stash of artificially-flavored snacks she thought he didn't know about. The sight of them made him smile.

But as he mounted the steps to Straud Mansion, the hair on his arms and neck rose.

He whirled, dropping his bundle...

"Caleb Vatore..."

"Y-yes? What do you want?" asked Caleb as the figure stepped up next to him.

"I have a message for you."

"A soul exchange has started, but the outcome is yours to determine. Choose love, and the blessings are yours alone. Fail the test, and you take another's burden as your own."

"What does that mean?" Caleb whispered.

The figure closed his eyes before speaking, as if gathering strength.

"The curse works against you, but you must still choose: Is love justice, or is it grace? If you bring on yourself another's burden, you must carry it faithfully or stand to lose far more."

"Who are you? What is this choice I must make?" Caleb asked.

"Mephisto. A messenger. Beware, the curse works against you all."

As Mephisto walked away, Caleb bent to pick up Morgan's bag of personal items, but when he turned, Mephisto had simply...vanished.

He dropped his bundle on the hall table and headed to the crypt, feeling surreal and frightened. He needed to mull over that experience, alone.

The darkness and solitude always steadied his mind. But what did it mean, how would he know when the choice was at hand?

Feeling somewhat better, he headed up into the main house to give Morgan the clothes he brought.

"You look like you've seen a ghost!" Morgan joked. "Rough shift?"

"Yeah..and some other stuff. But I brought you some clothes and stuff, from the house on the way back. Your chicken nuggets will need reheating, but they're in the fridge."

"Oh Caleb, you remembered!" she cried, pulling him into one of her impulsive, full-body hugs. "Thank you so much!"

He didn't mean to prolong the hug, but it just felt so wonderful...melting away stress and fear...

"And I have some crazy news!" her eyes danced with a secret.

"I'm pretty tired, want to tell me over some good coffee?" He headed to the kitchen.

The kitchen filled with the rich aroma as Caleb expertly prepared Morgan the perfect cup, then went about making his own.

Then he came to sit with her, but she stood, taking his hand.

"I think Vlad wants to announce this to everyone, later," she said, leaning in to whisper, "but I couldn't stand not telling you first: it turns out I'm Vlad's great-great-however-many-greats, grand-niece!"

"What?" it took a minute to process. Coffee helped.

Then a slow smile curled the corners of his mouth.

"Doesn't that mean you're part...vampire?" he asked, "because maybe that's why you...aren't afraid?"

"Oh wow! I hadn't even thought of that!" she said, "But then that would also mean...part witch, 'cause he said that's what my ancestor was."

She didn't pull her hand away. He was aware that her pulse was quickening, her scent sweetening.

"That makes sense," Caleb said as they moved closer, "because you've cast a spell over me..."

Very slowly, they moved together.

Then she was kissing him.

They broke apart, but lingered in the embrace.

"I'm grimy from work. I need a shower," he said, still mesmerized by her eyes.

She giggled. "Yes, you do, you dirty boy!" and dragged him off, laughing, by the hand.

But they were far from finished...

"But I'm still in uniform!" he protested weakly.

"I know!" she said,

"But I'm a _naughty_ _girl!"_


	30. Justice and Grace

After that eventful shower, Morgan and Caleb changed into dry clothes, feeling much refreshed. But she was exhausted as the morning sun came in the windows of her room. Caleb left her asleep, still in awe and slight disbelief, over what they had shared.

He sat down, his thoughts drifting. _She_ had kissed _him_ , in the kitchen. _She_ had pulled him into the shower with her...it wasn't something he had pushed on her. So why did he feel so uncertain? As if she might laugh it all off, tomorrow. He sighed heavily.

"I'd be sad if I were you, too," mocked Talon from behind him.

Talon reeked of alcohol already. He swirled his glass, enjoying himself. "She remembers what she did with me, you know. I thought she would, if I 'impressed' her enough. And now she'll never forget it."

Caleb was determined not to give Talon the satisfaction of knowing how that affected him, so he kept his voice level. "You drugged and raped her, which is what you perpetrated, not what she 'did'. And she will have justice."

Annoyingly, Talon seemed delighted. "Oho! A threat!"

"Not a threat. A promise." returned Caleb ominously. "You've overplayed your hand."

Just then Vlad appeared with Edvard, and opened the globe.

He poured from the crystal decanter, and passed a glass to each.

"Gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to make this announcement. It has come to my attention that Morgan Fyres is descended from my late sister, Yevgyenia. As my closest living descendant, my home is her ancestral home, and she enjoys the same protection as would any daughter of mine. This means she is not now, nor has she ever been, fair game, and the case is closed!" He retrieved papers from the desk. "If you would each just sign here, to affirm that this matter is resolved satisfactorily...there, and there...thank you..."

"Now that business is done, I should like to propose a toast on this happy occasion." He raised his glass: "To family! May we always honor it, and enjoy its blessings!"

"To family!" agreed Caleb, drinking.

"To hell with this!" mumbled Talon angrily, drinking his in gulps, "and to hell with you!" he shot at Caleb.

"You've had one too many," dismissed Caleb.

Edvard came around collecting glasses.

"I lost my job over this...you owe me!" Talon continued, swaying.

"Shall I take out the trash, sir, or await your word?" asked Edvard politely, though there was no receptacle in the room....

Vlad paused, "Ah... those who are no longer obligated to remain, may collect their personal items and assemble downstairs in preparation for departure. My grand-niece need not be disturbed, and my grand-progeny is welcome to stay." He headed downstairs.

"That's the last time you insult me, butler!" said Talon menacingly.

Edvard regarded him coolly. "If facts cannot be insults, this time was only the _first_. But counting isn't everyone's forté."

Talon hissed "Mesmeratu..."

and struck, drinking furiously...

Caleb managed to intervene with a command...

And Edvard fell softly to the carpet.

Vlad appeared in Dark Form with a stake, and Talon attempted to transform to bat-form, but Vlad's strike happened too fast...

And Talon stood there as the effects of the staking started, disbelieving...

It was done. Vlad walked away...

But amazingly, Talon struggled back up! "Caleb, I must tell you..." he said, embers flickering up from his body as light broke from fissures in his form.

"I die, but you still lose!" Talon gloated,

struggling to maintain the façade of composure, "...I got to her first, and you can never erase that!"

Caleb's eyes were calm with conviction. "Being last, is what matters."

"And this," he said, fury building,

"is for Morgan!"

The thirst for vengeance gave way to remorse as he met Talon's eyes...

"Caleb..." Talon croaked, when he could finally speak, "promise...you'll take care of her...no matter _what_... _swear it!"_

__

He collapsed into Caleb. "Please!" he groaned as flames continued to burst forth from within him.

"Yes! You have my word!" cried Caleb, unnerved.

"Vlad!" screamed Caleb, "When does this end?!"

"Usually well before now. I've never seen anything like this," Vlad replied, "but I might be able to help him let go."

Astonishingly, Vlad approached Talon and muttered strange words, and Talon's body lifted. Terrifying forms coalesced from Talon's form, then dissipated.

From Talon's mouth issued inhuman screams as ethereal forms of sadness and fear, fled his body.

Until suddenly emptied of spirits, his body fell

And lay corpse-like, shaking, burning...

Caleb was praying in earnest now, for forgiveness, for himself and for Talon, and for mercy to end this suffering.

For Talon's body lay arched and rigid, sizzling and burning, yet not being consumed, while Talon still screamed, unable to escape to death.

But finally, Death came for Talon.

And with it, final release.

But Caleb knew he had failed the test. Praying for mercy for himself and Talon, he suddenly understood that love is grace. But he had already exacted justice, and now he'd bear some unknown burden. And if he failed to carry it, he'd lose even more.


	31. Tears For Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vlad has time for remembrance and regret, Caleb's calm demeanor starts to crack, and Morgan sets out to connect with someone.

Straud Mansion seemed preternaturally quiet in the wake of Talon's death. Caleb, still in shock, nevertheless retrieved an empty urn from the storeroom and swept Talon's ashes into it. That someone he had known, even hated, could be reduced to something to sweep up, gave him the urge to retch. Whatever Talon had been, Caleb could not bring himself to disrespect his remains. Vlad could decide later, what to do with the urn.

Vlad's first concern was Edvard. He cleaned up and changed out of his bloodied clothing before touching him. Fortunately, Talon hadn't had time to drain Edvard to the point of danger, so Vlad did not have to agonize over giving him vampire blood. That talk Vlad planned to have with Edvard, would be best done without any artificially induced attachments.

But first, Edvard must recover.

And for that, he would need a convalescent diet rich in heme iron and blood-building herbs, and bedrest.

In all his time alone in Forgotten Hollow, Vlad had never really wanted a companion, had been content with the occasional duties his statutory leadership position in a very sparse vampire population, required. His first progeny fled, perhaps fearing reprisal, for she had turned a young man without either first attaining the rank of Master Vampire, or gaining Vlad's permission or knowledge: she simply did it.

Ah, Helena. He had been on the hunt that night, when the strong scent of fresh blood drew him to the rear of a modest property overlooking the water. And vampire though he was, it was still a frightful sight, that pitiful form in her delicate nightgown, lying in a pool of her own blood. She had done a good job with that kitchen knife.

But he checked, and she was indeed still alive.

So there was nothing to be done...

...but take her home. He wasn't thinking about what his plan was, past that.

But she roused suddenly, and he looked into her tearstained face, asking why she had done it.

But she only begged him to finish her off.

Stirred by pity, he sank his fangs into her throat...

...even a small drink from her would be enough to fulfill her request...

and found himself murmuring in her ear, that there was another life she could have, a life of freedom if she wanted it...

All she had to do was take his blood in return.

And she took to it as if she had been born to it. Thus was made, his first offspring: Helena, who then called herself Miss Hell. Little had he realized how apt it might be, as it became evident to him that he had begotten a nightmare: whatever trauma the girl had suffered that drove her to attempt so grisly a suicide, she brought with her, with a glee for inflicting misery with her newfound vampiric strength. She was unteachable, wild, and cruel, and appeared to enjoy deploying her feminine wiles in order to charm and seduce her prey before turning on and violating the young men she targeted. Vlad suspected her inner demons were born of violation, in her own life. But she proved rebellious, rejecting the guidance of her master except when she wanted something of him, which was usually more skills, more training, more power. Oh, he had tried to reach her, but she saw him merely as a resource, and when he said she was not ready for certain powers, she turned to books for training, instead.

And one day she announced proudly that she had done it, that a young man she wanted to keep, was even then, in the midst of the transformation.

Vlad had known immediately upon seeing the pale and sickly-looking young man, that his life was forfeit anyway. For Caleb's heart had been damaged by the rheumatic fever he had suffered in childhood, and he would not have lived to see thirty. He was dying by inches, at twenty-four. His twin sister, Elizabeth, called Lilly, had taken on the caregiving role when their mother had died of tuberculosis, and when their father succumbed later, managed the estate with their inheritance.

So it was perhaps not so unusual that young Lilly had come to his door demanding to be turned also, fearlessly declaring it her right as the injured party, as one landowner might demand satisfaction of another, for fields trampled by the errant landowner's cattle.

She was determined to be Miss Hell's equal in power at the very least, in the interest of defending Caleb, though she needn't have worried on that score. After seeing her master's disapproval of her creating her own progeny so soon, Miss Hell had turned and fled, and Vlad did not pursue her, thinking she would be back when she calmed down. But she had never returned, and it was with growing disquiet that he wondered what had become of her, and weighed whether going after her would be worth the doing, considering he'd probably just have to stake her if he did find her. His first mistake was in thinking it kind to spare her her own attempt at self-destruction: his second, in not correcting his first. The road to Hell was, he reflected ruefully, truly paved in good intentions.

But young Caleb had certainly changed: his erstwhile contentment with books, music, chess, and his sister's management, with occasional forays into the playboy world of speakeasies and jazz clubs, (and more recently, the nightclubs) seemed to have given way to something Vlad had long supposed Caleb was incapable of. But the barely-repressed fire in Caleb's eyes when he came to Vlad's door with Morgan and Talon, spoke of change.

And that change had something to do with Morgan. Vlad had taken in at once that the girl was weak from predation, redolent of Talon's carnal knowledge, and confused. Strange, that Caleb declared her his chosen, yet let Talon live. Even stranger that Morgan seemed so uncertain between the two of them, considering she had taken up residence by choice, with Caleb! But if Talon had been the type to enjoy the conquest of his victim's will, glamouring and charming, that would explain it.

But to immediate matters: Edvard's situation was due in part to Vlad letting his distaste for Talon become personal, once he knew Morgan to be his blood kin. He had realized that Talon's self-control was unraveling from thirst, because the fool would not go out and hunt even while Morgan slept, afraid of allowing Caleb any advantage. So Talon allowed himself to become parched, drank too heavily of alcohol, and snapped after Edvard's pointed snub, attacking him and earning a death sentence.

Yet Vlad knew he had been remiss in responding appropriately to a situation he should have seen coming. He could have arranged for the purchase of packaged blood and plasma fruit to keep Talon out of crisis, but instead, had let his anger inform his actions, and let Talon suffer. "See a pin and leave it lie, all the day your luck will fly" he muttered.

Talon's foolishness was perfectly consistent with his apparent lack of vampiric training at the hand of whatever negligent Master had made him. Had it not been for Caleb suddenly concerning himself with learning vampiric control and command techniques, after Talon's initial attack on Morgan, Edvard might have been the worse. Vlad could allow himself the luxury of weeping without discovery, now.

Whatever else, Talon had awakened Caleb to the wisdom of developing his powers, and in Vlad, of developing more fully his moral force. The Analects of Confucius had deeply impressed him in his youth; perhaps it was time to revisit them from the perspective of greater experience? Vlad knew he had been tested, and had fallen short, and Edvard lay paying the price. Of course he could resort to oral administration of his own blood, but wanted no inducements of any bond between him and Edvard. So there would be no shortcuts: Vlad must tend his patient however long it took.

* * *

Morgan woke to a silence that seemed unnatural, as if she were the only living creature in the house. Then she chuckled to herself. How easy it was to forget that vampires were technicallynot alive. But she couldn't think of Caleb as being so different. Vampires were just another kind of people to her. In fact they had become _her_ people somehow...starting with Gaston being turned, and introducing her to Caleb, and then eventually Lilith and then little Rose, somehow without quite knowing when it happened, they had become her...family. And then finding out that was actually true, with Vlad...! She felt a sense of belonging with Caleb, Lilith, all of them. Her life with her dad and Siobhan, high school and partying with Wolf, seemed like another life. In a way, she was sorry, but couldn't imagine her father and Siobhan were deeply affected by her absence, having never understood her presence. And Gaston...maybe it was best if she never saw him again. For both of them? And what about Caleb? Shouldn't she take off his ring and give it back? There was no threat to her now that she was Vlad's living heir. But the thought left her cold, hollow inside, and more alone than she could bear. But what about that memory...with Talon...!?

Suddenly she wished she could see Wolf again. He never pulled any punches, would tell her the truth to her face even if it hurt. She needed clarity. If he would even speak to her now. She had walked away from him too, when she left her old life behind, and they had grown up together, shared secrets, been partners in crime, passed joints and rolled together. Had shared everything but a bed, but that didn't keep him from offering! She laughed, remembering, and against her better judgement, sent him a text. He probably wouldn't answer it anyway.

There was a knock at the door, and Caleb came in, looking weary. He had news.

Her breath caught when he told her.

Talon was dead.

Her face felt tight.

Caleb looked blank, then down. "This comes as a shock, probably..."

She didn't know what to say. Should she say she was sorry? Glad?

Tears surprised her.

"You're CRYING for TALON!?" He was gripping her wrist, hard.

"Don't you realize he RAPED you?!"

"That hurts..." she said in a tearful whisper.

He dropped her wrist like a hot poker and stood.

"Forgive me..." he groaned.

Then left, muttering something about going out for dinner supplies.

She got a text. It was from Wolfgang, saying to meet him at the bluffs in an hour. She knew where.

The great front doors clanged shut with more force than was necessary as Caleb left.

She cleaned up her face, and headed downstairs. May as well get ready to head out. Wolf wouldn't wait around if she were late.


	32. Shout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Morgan heads out to meet Wolfgang at the bluffs.

It had been warm, and Morgan had time for a quick shower and a change of clothes over her swimsuit in case he was up for a swim like old times. Headphones...a touch of makeup. How long had it been? She felt unaccountably nervous, but excited. The night air felt alive with possibilities as she left. Somehow she was glad Caleb didn't know. He'd want to know why, and she wasn't even sure.

When she got to the bluffs, the stars were bright and there was Wolf, sitting by the old bonfire.

His hair was different. "Hey," she said, taking a seat beside him. "Nice hair..."

He didn't even look at her.

"So..." he said softly, as if talking to himself, "...what has it been...more than a year? And now here you are."

She hadn't realized. She was so wrapped up in her own problems, she never thought Wolf...might have...missed her.

"You didn't text me," she answered.

"You didn't either," he replied, "til now. And now I want to know what the hell happened."

Where to start? And surely he had heard...everyone was talking about her at the time. She was falling over her words, making little sense.

He got up, headed to the ancient pool, and Morgan followed. Then he turned suddenly.

"I should have known it would be Gaston. That's your problem, you don't admit shit to yourself. But I could see it even if you didn't want to."

"See...what?" she asked, almost afraid to hear it. She remembered a dance party in the rec room out back...but nothing had happened...had it?

He stared at her in disbelief. "That big party I threw when my mom was out of town, remember?"

She laughed, remembering, "Oh yeah, you were so toasted you were in your underwear!"

His smile was grim. "That would be every party I threw. But at one, we were in the dining room. And you and Gaston had a thing going. I wasn't too toasted to notice."

"Notice, what, exactly?" She felt uncomfortable.

Wolfgang snorted. "The way he was holding you. You were dancing with him. The way he was looking at you."

"And the way you were looking back at him."

He blew a ring of smoke. "And I was just there, watching."

"And you kept saying you two were just friends. And then you got knocked up, and it was his? Friends with benefits, were you? You couldn't even tell me the truth, and I thought we were tight. Then you overdosed. That's what everyone said. They said it was attempted suicide."

It had started drizzling.

He fixed her with his penetrating eyes.

"So, was it? Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"Yes," it came as a whisper. She couldn't meet his gaze.

He took a deep breath, blew it out, turned suddenly and strode off again, toward the ailing bonfire. The sky was beginning to lighten, and the drizzle faded away.

She followed, tentatively. He took out another blunt, lit it, inhaled thoughtfully, held it.

Blew slowly. When he spoke his voice was soft and dark.

"Hear me fucking clearly, Morgan. If you ever do that without me, I will COME AFTER YOU. You wanna leave this shitty world, fine! But don't you leave me behind, you FUCKING CUNT!"

Tears were in his eyes but he refused to let them fall.

"I'm so sorry..." she managed, "I never realized..."

He wiped a hand across his face.

The moon was setting and the sky was getting light.

"I didn't mean to hurt you or anyone else, I just didn't know what to do. Can you ever forgive me, Wolf?"

He had recovered. "I might...on one condition."

"What's that?"

"I'm hungry. Have breakfast with me."

Then he was hugging her, tightly.

"You're still a stone-cold bitch," he murmured over her shoulder.

"I love you too, asshole," she chuckled in his ear.


	33. Soupe De Sang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Caleb puts soup on, and Morgan goes to breakfast with Wolfgang, and Wolfgang realizes there's something she hasn't told him.

Caleb returned to Straud Mansion with his arms full of groceries, and a cooler head. Aware of the time, he got ready for work first in case preparations took longer than expected. He needed to try this recipe out, anyway. _Soupe de Sang_ would suit human and vampire palates both, and Morgan and Edvard would benefit from its blood-building properties and ease of digestion. A nice family dinner at table that would restore all their nerves. He hoped she'd appreciate the flowers. He quickly arranged them in a vase and set them in the dining room.

First things first: set the stock to reduce for consommé.

That in process, he went upstairs to see Morgan.

Bedroom empty, but in the bathroom, the shower curtain was damp, and he could smell traces of her cosmetics.

So she must have gone somewhere. He sent her a text.

Separated the eggs.

Checked, still nothing. Texted again.

Checked the time and prepped vegetables.

Okay, she'd had plenty of time to answer.

He called her number. It went straight to voicemail.

Maybe Vlad knew something.

He knocked tentatively, and found Vlad at Edvard's side. He confirmed Morgan had not spoken with him.

"Is something wrong, my boy?"

Images of Morgan slumping helpless in Talon's grip as he drained her at the Britechester library, flashed in Caleb's mind.

"No...I was just wondering if she said anything on her way out."

No note, not a word.

He was probably overreacting.

But why did she have to turn her phone off?!

* * *

Morgan's stomach was also starting to rumble when they arrived at the diner.

"So," she asked once they were settled, "What have you been doing since graduation?"

"I went into business..." he replied, sipping.

She waited.

He just gazed back, sipped his coffee again.

"And what about you?" he asked finally, "after that...incident, you split from your dad and skipped town. Even your sister doesn't know much."

Morgan gulped her macchiato before replying. "Well, a guy I met through Gaston, Caleb, offered me a job as an au-pair for his sister Lilith, and I needed a place to stay anyway, so I took it."

"You're not talking about Caleb and Lilith _Vatore,_ are you?"

"And what if I am?"

He lowered his voice. "I hear things, okay? There are rumors about those two."

Morgan's stomach gave an unpleasant little leap.

"What are you implying? And maybe I know them better than you do!" she retorted, with more bravado than she felt.

His ire was rising.

"I'm not _implying_ it, I'm saying it: you don't know who you're dealing with, or you wouldn't take that job! You needed a place to stay, and you didn't even say a _fucking word_ to me! But you'd move in no questions asked, with the _Vatores?!"_

_Oh Christ, she's gonna cry!_

"Morgan, I'm sorry! Let's just eat..." and then he noticed her hand.

_Holy shit, what was that, four karats? More? Please tell me that's a fake,_ he thought, _and you're not walking around with something worth your finger and dumping the rest of you in the harbor, for!_

"Morgan, hey... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry...let's just eat, and get outta here, okay?"

 _He'd have to find out the story on that ring, when they could talk in better privacy. Because she damned well didn't go buy it for herself. Au pairs don't make that kind of money,_ he thought grimly.


	34. Banana Bread and Frosting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Morgan and Wolf head to his place.

Morgan got up to go to the bathroom and fix her face.

Wolf checked his messages, answered a few, and turned his phone off.

Caught the server's eye and she came over. "How was everything? Can I interest you in a dessert menu?"

"No thanks. I'll take the check."

"Of course!" and she went to get it.

"Ready to go?" he asked when Morgan returned.

The server came with the check and Wolf took it.

Morgan looked uncomfortable. "This wasn't a date...you don't need to..."

He passed it back to the server, left the tip on the table, and rose.

"Fine, you don't want it to be a date? Okay. Then call it a favor. So you owe me one, now."

Why did she feel so uneasy suddenly? _It's just Wolf,_ she reminded herself. _We've known each other our whole lives._

She hoped her face didn't betray her. "Okay, what do you want?"

"Come back with me, to the house. You haven't seen Lucas since he grew like a foot in one summer. My mother asks after you."

She couldn't help exhaling, relieved. "Is that all?"

"No," he said, taking a step.

"Also this-"

Morgan's shock melted in his warmth.

The moment stretched out as time slowed.

Then it broke free like a water droplet and the cafe noise resumed.

"Let's go," he said, his voice husky.

* * *

She felt strange approaching Coorinberg Cottage. But Mrs. Munch had never been anything but kind, had been a kind of surrogate mother figure to Morgan after her own mother had died. It felt like going back in time, going through that gate.

:"Wolfgang? Is that- Oh, Morgan! How nice to see you again! Wolfie, you know you're a grown man now and you don't have to ask permission to go out, but please let me know when to expect you back. Have you had breakfast?"

"Actually Mom, Morgan and I had breakfast at the diner, and we're gonna hang here for a while, okay?

"Well alright then, dear. I have to get ready for work in a few minutes anyway, so I'm glad you're back."

"Back in a minute!" called Wolf on his way to the kitchen.

Mrs. Munch breezed by calling, "Make yourself at home, Morgan!" and when she returned, she had changed for work.

She gestured to the chairs and they sat down together. "So what have you been up to lately? I haven't kept up with anything, I've been so busy with work..."

"Well, Mrs. Munch," began Morgan,

"You're a grown girl now, you can call me Mila," said Mila warmly.

"Okay, thanks... Mila," continued Morgan, "I um, got a job as an au pair, and hadn't seen any of the old crowd in a long time, you know?"

"Oh, well, I'm glad to hear you're well and happy, Morgan. You know you are always welcome here. You and Wolfie go ahead and catch up all you want. My boys are all growing up... would you believe little Lucas is my height now? Yes...but there are good sides to it too.. I've been able to get some needed work done on the house now that Wolfie is working for that nice Mr. Villarreal and bringing in an income. He's such a thoughtful boy after all, my Wolfie. He's so generous, tries to take care of his old Ma..." she sighed.

"Oh, he did mention he's in business...what does he do, exactly?" Morgan inquired.

"Something about moving inventory, warehouses and all that. It's good Wolfie has a strong male role model now, and the start of a career...I won't be around forever, you know."

Morgan smiled. She had forgotten how talkative Mrs. Munch -Mila- could be, but it was pleasant and comforting, somehow.

Then she rose, calling, "Wolfie! Would you get my banana bread out of the oven? You kids can enjoy it while I'm gone!"

Morgan heard Wolf calling back "Got it Mom!" and smelled something delicious. Then a wave of exhaustion hit her.

Wolf came in bearing the banana bread, and set down plates and utensils.

As if by magic, Gunther and Lucas materialized grabbing plates and cutting thick slices, and suddenly the room was full of talking and eating.

Gunther was still...Gunther. And they hadn't been kidding about Lucas, Morgan realized. He had really shot up! So weird to see him not a little boy any more.

But the banana bread revived Morgan's energies, so when Lucas cranked up the stereo,

It was like old times.

"Alright, I'm out the door!" announced Mila. "Be good boys! It was nice seeing you again, Morgan!"

Then being up all night started to catch up to her again.

"Wolf, it's been great seeing everyone, but I'm really tired, I think I better head home..."

"You sure you don't want some of what I have on the table?" he asked.

"Uh...Lucas and Gunther?" she half-whispered.

"They're cool" he murmured.

Oh, she hadn't done that in a long time. "What are you, a dealer?" she asked, half joking, half worried. Thinking of Gaston and what had happened to him. And her own close call.

He grinned. "No, I just make some good money now, and thought it would make this a real party."

"I haven't partied in a long time," she confessed. "why not?"

And the tiredness disappeared as she slowly filled up with awareness, certainty, and a tingling rush of focused energy!

"Better than banana bread, right?" said Wolf as Morgan let the rush spread out.

"Way better..." she agreed, taking it in. The music was really pounding and she was itching to dance.

"What's mine is yours, Morgan," he said, "So long as that works both ways."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Let's go where we can talk," he said.

"Gunther, can you keep an eye on Lucas?" asked Wolf on the way past. "Gonna need some privacy."

"Okay, but don't do anything I wouldn't do!" said Gunther.

Wolf snorted.

He locked the door behind them.

Morgan sat on the bed.

"Wolf, if you think-"

"Morgan, I know your body's not for sale. Relax. That's not what I'm after...unless you're offering, of course."

She ignored that. "So why are we here?"

"To play chess," he answered.

"With the door locked?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"And to talk," he said. "I want the truth."


	35. Queen Sacrifice to...check mate?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wolf and Morgan play a game, while Caleb ponders the ethics of love.

Things were quiet at Straud Mansion.

Vlad spent most of his time upstairs in Edvard's room, researching everything from herbal medicine to how to use modern appliances, keeping a watchful eye on Edvard's every need.

Caleb sat alone. The soup would be fine in the refrigerator, since it was obvious Morgan was not going to be in for dinner...that was not the issue. It was this unbearable sensation of hanging in midair, helpless.

Where WAS she?! Why did she keep her phone off?!

Did he, or did he not, have a right to care? Or was he presuming too much?

That gave him pause. Were his motives selfish, a mindless reflex? Or did she truly matter to him, beyond simple desire?

One had to ask these things. He had had more than enough years to watch, dabble in, and contemplate love from many angles, and most of what people called love, was desire in disguise, and often selfish.

He could not deny the desire for her; but something else had begun, from the daily casual togetherness, from the little rituals of life. From watching Rose grow, and feeling the sweet tug of being needed, trusted, in a way that made his heart unfold. From watching Morgan, emerging from the perpetual tension and stress and fear, of her figurative death to her old life, not unlike the vampiric transformation...yet she was transforming, but still warm, alive, _becoming_. But even that could be selfish desire, just a desire to be needed...

As if on automatic, his feet carried him upstairs to the desk, opening the browser to research ingredients for a new pastry, but his thoughts circled back.

Was that all it was? His need to be needed? 

Maybe in order to find out for sure, he should let her go, and see how he felt once she was no longer right under his nose. Could he love her, if she could not be his? That was the real question. Love can't be just a desire to possess, he realized. It has to be a willingness to give up personal desire, in order that the beloved's best interest is preserved.

So it seemed his path was clear: to be willing to let her go, if that was best for her. No matter how hard it might be. No matter how much it might hurt.

* * *

So, the truth. Behind his closed bedroom door, Morgan told Wolfgang what she had left out, at the diner. She expected him to be a bit shocked, but he was doing a remarkable job of a poker face the whole time.

"So," he said when she finished, "let me get this straight: Gaston was in a relationship with Caleb Vatore, when he cheated on _him_ , with _you,_ and they broke up? So Vatore has every reason to hate you, but instead, he had you move in with him, and gave you a job?"

She nodded, realizing how it sounded.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, that's messed up. Is there anything else you want to tell me?" His eyes flicked to the massive rock on her hand, but if she noticed, she gave no indication.

So she was still playing close to the vest about something important. "All right, since you aren't going to volunteer the information, I'm asking: where did you get that ring?"

She looked momentarily abashed. "From Caleb."

He did his best not to show his shock. "...and? I'm assuming it's not an 'employee of the month' award?"

"He said it was a... token."

"Token of what, his affections?"

"He proposed, okay?"

 _Holy crap!_ "Jesus, Morgan, you don't just want a _little_ trouble, do you? You want it ALL!"

"What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"I hate to break it to you Morgan, but in case you don't realize, Caleb Vatore is a-"

"A Vampire?!" she cut in, "I am fully aware of that! Anything else you want to warn me about?"

He jumped up, aghast. "YES! Don't you realize they are DANGEROUS?!"

Her eyes blazed. "He is NOT DANGEROUS!"

 _NO WAY._ "Oh, god, so are you _fucking_ him? Or just his _blood bitch?"_

_  
_

A powerful backhand knocked his world sideways.

Wolf staggered a step, recovered.

 _The Morgan Slap,_ he thought, impressed, running his tongue under his numbed lip, tasting blood. _She still has_ _it!_

 _"None of your fucking business!"_ she growled through gritted teeth.

"I had that coming," he said as head cleared. "I was out of line."

"I don't need your permission or approval for my relationships, and you don't need mine either. Are we clear!?"

"As a bell," he agreed. "Morgan, I'm sorry. I ran off at the mouth. But can I at least care if you're in mortal peril?"

She rolled her eyes. "I am NOT in mortal peril, okay? Gaston was a vampire too, and you didn't see him as a problem!"

That got him. "Gaston?! Since when?"

She told him the story she had been told, how Lilith had apparently come for a night feed when they were all passed out after the party at her place when her dad was on a business trip, and decided Gaston would do for more than just a snack, and how Caleb had by chance met him at the club and was there, luckily to save him when the transformation went wrong. And about Rose.

"Holy shit! So he's been a vampire all this time, huh? And he's got a _kid?_ So is the kid a...?"

"Yes, all this time, and yes, Rose was born a vampire. And Wolf...they're my family. I don't know what the future holds, but...I feel like I _belong,_ you know? I never even felt that, with my own family!" Tears were forming again. "Damnit, I'm sorry...I can't seem to stop crying..."

His arms were around her. "Shhhh..." he heard himself soothing, patting her reflexively. "It's okay..." Damn, when did Morgan become this emotional?!

He had a way to change the subject: "Well now we've talked, how about that game of chess?"

"I'm kinda tired, but..."

"Not crashing already, are you? C'mon! I'll make it quick!" He smiled as he headed to the chess table.

"Is that what you told your girlfriend?" she taunted, grinning.

 _Now **there's** the Morgan I know and love! _"Okay, is your game as sharp as your tongue? Up for a wager?"

"What are we risking?" she wanted to know. They had a long history of wagers, some more stupid than others, but all of them fun.

"You're risking spending the night with me if you lose." He grinned, hoping she didn't realize he wasn't entirely nonchalant about it.

"Then prepare to hug your pillow like every other night!" she laughed. "Because you're gonna lose, and then YOU have to sleep with GUNTHER!"

"You're EVIL!" he laughed. "So you accept the terms?"

"Of course! I've been playing with Caleb, so be warned. And be sure to tell me how loudly Gunther snores!"

Of course she wasn't going to mention that she hadn't managed to beat Caleb yet.

They made their opening moves, and the conversation lulled while each considered.

Then Wolf broke the silence. "So... you're really marrying a vampire? How's that gonna work?" 

She hesitated, then sighed in genuine consternation. "I don't know!"

"What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, "Do you love him?"

She considered her strategy, wondering which move to take.

"I'm mixed up...there was this guy, I ran into him at the library, and I thought he was cute..." and she told him about meeting Talon, then not remembering more til she woke up at Wolfsbane Manor, and how she fled the house after overhearing part of Caleb's conversation with Lilith, and how Talon came out of nowhere. And took her inside, made drinks, the giddiness, him carrying her upstairs...the garbled memories...then the confusion of waking up and not knowing whether to trust him or Caleb, the trip to Vlad's, and the staking.

Wolfgang let out a low whistle. "God, I'm sorry, Morgan. That's the dangerous kind. Talon must have been a piece of work. Wonder why he bothered to drug your drink, though...most of them can just use their powers. Maybe he was really entry-level and couldn't do that, yet? I'm glad Vlad staked him."

"So you think he DID drug me? I didn't just...get drunk and...?"

Wolfgang scoffed, "Uh, sorry to break it to you, but yeah...you were drugged, I could probably even tell you what he used."

"So...I WAS r-- but how would you know that kind of thing?" she asked, emotions rising at the full realization of what had happened.

"Are you seriously asking me that? Come on, Morgan, I'm not EVIL, but I am familiar with a few...substances, which are popular for dirtbags to do...that...and, uh, questioning."

"You mean interrogating? Would that be part of the 'business' you're in?"

"I'm involved in some things that you would rather not know about, yes. And the drug I'm thinking of from your description is a hypnotic, making you prone to suggestion, and an amnesiac, that makes you less able to remember what happened, after...unless someone plants a post-hypnotic suggestion and then invokes it, which is really useful for making you believe their version of events. It's a good thing he got staked. He'd have been able to do that without any drugs, soon enough, if he had survived long enough to gain rank and skill. Do you see now why I was so concerned about you getting involved with one?"

"How do you know all this?"

"I figured it was a good idea to do some background research on vampires, know who I'm dealing with, with some of our colleagues. It always pays to watch your back."

"I meant about the drug."

"Again, you don't want to know that."

For a few minutes, only the click of chess pieces broke the quiet.

Then Wolf had to press the issue. "So...you plan to marry this guy?"

"It's complicated," she said.

"How can that be complicated? It's a simple yes or no question."

"I have so many things in my head, so many feelings, I don't know which one is right, Wolf! And...sorry, but...check!"

"WHAT?!" he exclaimed.

But he wasn't giving up on the subject at hand. "That kiss in the café...did it mean anything to you?" and removed himself from check.

She considered. "Wolf, I think of you like a brother..." Made another move.

That was just the move he had hoped she would make. "You wouldn't, if you gave me half a chance to prove it to you."

He made his move, carefully. "Besides, no better time to test out the idea of whether you really want to be with this guy. Let down your guard for once. You know I won't push anything on you you don't want. Tell me you didn't feel anything when we kissed, and I'll drop it."

"I can't tell you that, Wolf." She moved again, not considering it carefully enough.

"Then maybe you're not ready for a decision like that, with him," he remarked, moving his piece. "Checkmate!"

"Which side of the bed do you want?"


	36. Demons and Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Messages and manifestations, converging on the issue of trust.

The morning light brought Wolf partially aware of Morgan, still asleep in his arms, her backside still pressed pleasurably into him. He luxuriated in the sensation of holding her close, the night's passion replaying in his mind...

But realization was dawning as inexorably as the sun. No...he wanted to burrow back into the dream! Keep his arm around her...keep it in his mind...but it was a losing battle.

Yes, she had reached for him in her sleep, and yes, pushed up against him in his mother's sheer summer nightie. She had indeed let her guard down. But it was not for him, that she had moaned in the night.

_Pack it in, Wolf!_ he told himself, forcing himself to turn over and sit up.

He'd clear his head in the shower.

The night had indeed been a test. And now there was just one thing left to do.

* * *

Caleb had spent a long shift at work, letting his hands go through the motions while his mind circled endlessly. 

He returned home under the burden of decision.

Tried to shower off the workday.

She still hadn't been home.

He knew better than to go back to Wolfsbane Manor: without even Lilith and Rose there, the emptiness would be crushing, the house a graveyard of hopes and dreams.

His feet took him of their own volition, out the door and toward the long path that led to a solitary place.

Solitude should soothe.

Lilith was moving on.

And home...where can home be? Not a house, not a place. Empty shells, all.

It's whom one shares it with. Or it's just an empty shell to a homeless soul. Like his body, an empty shell. A homeless soul. Nothing to communicate, no one to hear.

Changes bloomed across his skin, the signs of his true state, as something that he had kept buried, the dread of pointless existence alone, rose up from deep moorings.

Only the bare rocky cliffs bore witness...

And answered with an echoed rage.

* * *

Morgan awoke, feeling the empty space where Caleb had been snuggled against her...no wait...it was just a dream...

Was it Wolf, then, that she had clung to in the night? Grateful he wasn't still in bed, she gathered her change of clothes and headed for a shower.

Refreshed even though her clothes were grubby, she headed toward the good smells coming from the kitchen. She had expected Mila, but it was Wolf scrambling eggs!

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Yeah, you?" she asked, feeling a bit shy.

"As well as could be expected," he admitted, "You talk in your sleep."

She didn't know what to say to that, but hoped it hadn't been anything too embarrassing.

As was always the case when there was food, Gunther and Lucas materialized like flies to a picnic table and suddenly the room was full of talking and eating.

Wolf seemed to want to avoid his brothers this morning and quickly washed up.

"Can we talk in private?" he asked as Morgan finished her plate. Gunther and Lucas were keen of hearing and soft of foot, and what he needed to say was privileged information.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Morgan asked, feeling distinctly awkward...what might she have said, in her sleep?

He took a deep breath. "Morgan, this isn't easy. You know me better than anyone else. I always thought somehow, we'd wind up together. When you started hanging out with Gaston more than me, it hurt, but I thought it was a passing thing. But when you disappeared without a word, that _really_ hurt. It proved to me, that you didn't feel the same way. I thought you were out of my heart for good. But... when I kissed you at the cafe, I felt it again, and I think you did too..."

"And last night, you shared my bed. You reached for me."

"Wolf...I'm...sorry...but you're not saying we...?"

"No. We didn't." he swallowed and his throat felt a bit thick. "You reached for me, but it was _his_ name you were saying. Caleb's. I didn't want to believe it, but...you want to be with him."

"Wolf, I'm sorry, so sorry if I hurt you... I wish I could be with you, it would be so easy! Like you said, we know each other better than anyone else...so why does it have to be so hard? I've been fighting with myself so long and I'm so tired! Why does it feel so wrong to love? What should I do?!"

"Promise me you'll never walk out of my life like that again, that you'll always be honest with me, that we'll always trust each other. And then... go home to him, tell him the truth: that you love him. And invite me to the wedding."

* * *

Morgan was drained, and felt grubby as she returned to a silent Straud Mansion. Caleb didn't appear to be home, but maybe he had a late shift. She stopped by the bathroom. No sign of Vlad or Edvard. Maybe she'd have a quick snack and head to bed. She could talk to Caleb tomorrow.

A transparent form manifested near the front steps, standing in flames and darkness.

And moved soundlessly through walls, searching for something.

Weeping audibly.

He looked up as she entered the room.

"Don't be afraid!"

"I must give you a message if I am ever to know peace."

"You must let go your fears, and trust Caleb. You must learn from each other, help each other. There is a curse here: _against love was it made, and by love must it be broken._ Remember those words when you are at your most afraid! I cannot change the past, but I can try to change the future. I was a liar, a con. But you must believe me now. I'm so sorry for what I did in life, Morgan. This is my chance to redeem my soul. There are many possible outcomes, but for the best of them to manifest, you must do what is hardest for you: you must learn to _trust_."

Morgan recovered her initial shock, and circled around him, seeing through him, emotions warring in her.

"Trust? You did your best to destroy my trust! You told me Caleb was only after my blood, that _he_ was making _you_ the bad guy. That you had fallen for me. Those were all lies?" she demanded, struggling to keep her voice even.

"All lies," he admitted, his voice coming into and out of focus as he seemed to be losing strength, "Except the last."

His face dropped in shame and sorrow as he began to fade.

"I can only offer you justice now, but he can give you grace, if you let him...remember when the curse confronts you, not to fear, and then you must do the hardest thing for you, and put your faith in love..." she heard faintly echoing, and then she was alone.

And a faintly glowing form looked backward at the steps of Straud Manor before dissipating into mist, unseen by her, or anyone else.

* * *


	37. Love is a Battlefield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Caleb and Vlad clash, and Morgan takes a stand.

With Talon's ghostly visit shaking her already-tired senses, Morgan headed for bed, too tired even to change.

Caleb returned to Straud Mansion, but something was wrong...his head hurt...his thirst had been growing, but this was different...

...he wanted to kill.

He stepped inside to be hit by Morgan's scent in the hall. She was there.

There was no thought. He followed the scent.

No!

But it was unmistakable. A man's scent.

Something was happening-

Morgan woke, started to rise. "Caleb, is that-?" and then screamed.

Then Vlad materialized and Caleb whirled to face him.

"Caleb, STOP!" Vlad commanded...

Caleb made unearthly guttural sounds. "Morgan, RUN!" sputtered Vlad, struggling with the strange hissing animal Caleb had become.

It was enough distraction for the mindless beast in Caleb to surprise Vlad with savage power!

But Vlad was now aware of exactly what he was facing, and this wasn't his first deadly battle...

"Leave now, Morgan," said Vlad as Caleb went down, "This may not end well."

Morgan rose, tears streaming. "No, you can't!" she protested, "I won't leave him!"

"I love you, Caleb!"

Caleb struggled to his feet.

"God help me then...." he whispered.


	38. Dress for Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vlad has words with Caleb, and requests a dinner.

Morgan's blood chilled as Caleb surveyed her like a stranger.

"You don't know what love is!" he growled,

"And you don't know _me!"_

"Caleb, a word!" called Vlad after his back.

The door slammed.

Vlad paused a moment, turning to Morgan.

  
"Dress for dinner tonight."

* * *

Vlad was at his heels as he headed for the crypt.

"Caleb, wait! You shouldn't go through this alone!"

Caleb whirled at the top of the stairs. "I AM alone! What does it matter!?" he hissed.

:"Let's discuss this."

Vlad fell into step with him.

"You have much, yet, to understand, my boy."

"Sit down, Caleb, and hear me out."

"I'm going home tonight, Vlad. Alone."

"I have sensed for some time a change in you, Caleb, and it is fitting that you should head your own house. But let us not act in haste-"

"You saw. You stopped me, but I wanted to-" _wanted to kill her,_ he completed in his thoughts, miserably.

"That's just it, you finally met your inner beast, it's something we must each go through on our journey, but there are choices to be made, you need guidance-!"

_"I need nothing!"_ Caleb hissed.

Caleb winced. "I'm sorry. Thank you for stopping me, and for caring, but I think what I most need at this point, is to be, physically, as alone as I feel."

Vlad sighed. "So be it. But I have asked Morgan to dress for dinner tonight, as I had an important announcement to make, to... _the family._ Of which you are a part. And I hope I can count on your help in serving that wonderful soup you've told me about, to make it an occasion?"

Caleb relaxed slightly. "Of course. And I... may have an announcement of my own."

* * *

Morgan was stunned. Caleb's transformation, the terrible moment when it seemed he and Vlad were genuinely trying to kill each other, had passed, but his harsh dismissal was worse than all the rest of it put together. Tears kept coming, not because he had...attacked?...but because he had _disavowed_ her. He said she didn't know what love was, that she didn't know _him._

A week ago, she would have agreed. She didn't know what love was, or at least, wasn't willing to look it in the face. She'd been running from it. Love wasn't a feeling of infatuation. It was knowing that she didn't want the rest of her life, without him in it. That she had no family if she didn't have Caleb. And now he said she didn't know him. Well _that_ much was true. He never let her. Even in the shower together, it seemed like he kept a certain part of himself locked away, that she could not access. Even though they had well, accessed everything else...

She sprang up, suddenly angry.

She needed something to do with her hands.

And a clean change of clothes.

Somehow it was oddly soothing, just to attend to something practical.

But over the hum of the washing machine, the sound of piano music floated suddenly.

She had to investigate...

And stopped.

She didn't want to intrude.

They were in their own world, Edvard's slim fingers dancing across the ivories as they exchanged knowing smiles.

And then it was a love song, and Edvard's clear voice floated in harmony with the piano, serenading Vlad!

She saw, in their faces, a deep, abiding appreciation, a friendship that was more than friendship. They were at home in each other. _That_ was love.

"Morgan...?"

Afraid she would cry harder if she said a word, she rushed past him.

Caleb restrained himself from following. She was obviously terrified of him. Who could blame her?

Sequestered in her bathroom, Morgan put the shower on full blast,

And gave in to the kind of crying she didn't want overheard.

Caleb commanded himself toward the kitchen.

It was better this way.

He had a dinner to prepare.


	39. Set an extra place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaston gathers courage to call Caleb and gets added to the guest list for...what?  
> Warning: image and mention of self-harm.

Meanwhile, back at the 'bat cave' (Gaston's private joke with himself for his brother's underground luxury HQ now that Lilith had basically moved in), things couldn't have been more awkward between him and Lilith.

They didn't openly discuss the awkwardness, so it was impossible to resolve. His vampiric master, his child's mother, his brother's lover, and the overbearing sister of his...ex? Strange mixed emotions welled up when he thought of Caleb. And Morgan. He tried to hope they were happy together, but that also led his thoughts to dark places. In moments of helpless rage, he had indulged in acts that, ironically, were futile gestures.

As impotent a gesture as his continuing to exist, followed swiftly by crushing guilt, for he knew firsthand what self-destructive acts left in their wake. His daughter might not realize he was her father, but he was increasingly her caregiver, and she was slowly starting to re-attach to him. She had been taken away from 'Unka and Mohgan' when Lilith brought her here, and missed them. A child was a forever responsibility, and he would suffer whatever he had to, to keep her from more suffering. He had already let her down in her infancy through his weakness, and would not break again.

But it was becoming impossible to avoid The Dynamic Duo. Even Gordon's apparent enjoyment of letting Lilith feed, had become something Gaston didn't like walking in on.

He had to get out from under them. But Rose... he couldn't take her away from her mother. She had been taken away from too much, for too little cause. But it was impossible to think clearly, here.

A solution fell in his lap unexpectedly after he walked in on Gordon and Lilith, of all places, in the bathroom upstairs.

They weren't nearly as embarrassed as he, but soon afterward, Lilith asked if he wouldn't mind taking Rose to go see Caleb and Morgan for a week or so. She and Gordon needed some time alone to plan their future (that much was obvious!). Though he feared for Rose's emotional security, being away from her mother that long, he had to admit privately, it seemed Rose had attached more to Unka and Mohgan than she had to her own mother, possibly because Lilith had, at the time, been only too glad to hand Rose to Morgan and Caleb at every opportunity.

With butterflies in his stomach, Gaston dialed Caleb's number.

Caleb was taken by surprise when his phone rang and it was Gaston, but told him his timing was good, because a special dinner was being prepared as they spoke.

Gaston suddenly didn't know how to explain that he needed a place to stay. He'd tell Caleb face to face. Or maybe he'd just go rent a room, as it sounded like he'd be as much a fifth wheel there, as he was at Gordon's.

"Will you need help with suitable attire?" Caleb prompted at Gaston's silence.

"Just how 'suitable' are we talking?" Gaston asked.

Caleb laughed, but to Gaston's ear, it sounded a bit forced. "Formal dress, for a special announcement."

Gaston's stomach sank.

He should be happy for them. No matter what, he was GOING to be happy for them.

"Come to Wolfsbane Manor first," Caleb advised, "so we can get Rose settled and catch up."

Gaston hung up with a mix of relief and dread. Life was moving forward, at least. It always did.


End file.
